


The Second War

by Beserk



Series: An Ineffective Cure For Evil [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AIDS crisis 1980s, Alternate Universe - 1980s, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-06 03:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17337731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beserk/pseuds/Beserk
Summary: The Death Eaters wage the Second Vampire War against the Order of the Phoenix.





	1. Tina's Find

_Life is for the living._  
_Death is for the dead._  
_Let life be like music._  
_And death a note unsaid_  
_ -Langston Hughes _

The house is quiet and still when Tina approaches it. The smell of death hangs over it, the smell of dried blood and deceased humans. Tina sniffs the air and grits her teeth.

 _This is for me_ , she thinks as she walks up to the front door. _These deaths are all for me_.

The proof is hanging on the door, nailed crudely in place. A wooden craving of a skull with a snake for a tongue. Tina tears it down and stuffs it in her pocket. Can't let the human police see _that_ when they arrive.

Tina takes one last look at her neighbors house. She remembered how the place had looked just the night before, She had seen the three children playing in the living room, illuminated by the indoor lights that made it easy for Tina to see inside. The family's mother and father sat on the sofa, curled into each other and watching the children running after each other and laughing.

So, one last moment without the images of her neighbors dead and sucked dry of their blood. She closes her eyes to capture the memory and pushes the door open.

Stepping into the house, Tina is greeted immediately by the first dead body.

It's the father. He's hanging on the wall opposite Tina, nailed up, his arms stretched to the sides, held up in place by two nails pounded into the palms.

 _They've crucified him_ , Tina shivers. She doesn’t know much about human religion but she knows enough to realize the significance of that particular positioning. She walked up to the man. The Death Eaters have plucked the man's eyes out, leaving bloody pits in place. Tina touches the father's forehead.

"I'm so sorry they did that to you," She whispers. She closes her mouth and pulls the two nails out of the father's palms and catches him as he falls to the ground. She puts him down gently and crosses his arms on the floor.

The smell is still powerful enough to stop Tina from figuring out by smell alone where the rest of the family was, so she's forced to wonder the house, looking for bodies.

The living room is empty, as is the kitchen. But as Tina walks past the pantry door she feels a shiver go down her spine. There's something there. She can feel it.

Tina opens the pantry door and out tumbles the second body. The mother, landing face-first on the floor. Tina leans over the body and gently rolls it over.

Eyes missing, hands cut off at the wrists, neck snapped. Tina swallows as she crosses the woman's arms over her chest, like her husband.

Maybe she should say a prayer. It seems like the thing to do. But the only vampire prayers involving dead humans revolve around giving thanks to the floor for providing nourishment. And Tina doesn’t know any human prayers.

"Just pretend I prayed for you," She whispers to the woman. She sighs deeply and stands back up. This was the easy part. The rest of the bodies she'll find will be children's.

Tina walks slowly. She's an intruder in a family grave, she shouldn't let her presence be known. Tina wonders what these humans believe about life after their death. she's been taught to keep silent around the recently dead, so as not to distrust their journey to the next stage.

She climbs up the stairs and stops in the hallway, standing in front of three closed door, each with a plaque on it announcing the rooms belonging to Susan Amelia and Edgar Bones.

Three bedrooms, three dead bodies, three dead children. Tina rubs her eyes. It will do no good to procrastinate. She has to go in.

She puts her hand on Edgar's door. She takes a deep breath, and that's when she hears a cry.

Tina freezes, her hand on Edgar's handle. She sniffs the air, but she can still smell nothing but the dead blood.

 _I_ _probably imagined it_ , Tina thinks. She shakes her head and starts to move back to Edgar's room, but then she hears it again. A little child's cry.

Tina lets go of the door handle and rushes over to Susan's room. She breaks open the door and jumps in.

The room is rather small, holding a changing table, wooden closet and large crib. And in the crib, there's a child. A very much alive little child.

The child, Susan, is sitting down, dressed in a long white gown. She has long brown hair and wide blue eyes. She appears to be about two years old, and her eyes were wide and full of tears.

But what catches Tina's eyes are the two severed hands laying in the crib next to the child.

Her mother's hands.

Tina puts a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming out loud in fury. She starts to make her way to the girl, but her progress is stopped when something squishy bursts underneath her seat.

You don’t want to know, Tina closes her eyes, but then looks down anyway to find that she's stepped on an eyeball.

And the room is full of them.

"Where Mommy?" The little child hiccups, standing up.

 _Oh_. Tina closes her eyes briefly before trying to smile at the child, but she doubts she's looking reassuring.

"It's all right, baby girl," Tina whispers, carefully maneuvering the floor to avoid the eyes on the floor. "I'm going to get you out of here."

She reaches out to pick the girl up. Susan leans against Tina's shoulder and then shivers and starts crying.

"What?" Tina mumbles. "What is, what's wrong sweetheart?"

"Cold," The girl whimpers, and Tina realizes what the child is talking about.

Her skin is cold to humans.

"Shit," Tina says. This is why vampires don’t usually interact with humans. Their very bodies are incompatible. She heard once that a large amount of squib babies die in birth because of all the time spent connected to such cold skin.

She wraps the girl in a blanket she finds in the closet and Susan, exhausted from the fear and crying.

"And what am I supposed to do with you?" Tina mumbles. "Who will take care of you, now?"

She can only think of one place to take an orphaned human baby.

 


	2. New Things

_We cannot always build the future for our youth, but we can build our youth for the future_

_–Franklin D. Roosevelt_

"The Death Eaters are losing their ability to act in a subtle way," Harry says flatly.

Hermione looks up at him. She's sitting on the floor, handing Susan wooden blocks to stack up. Ginny, who's sitting on the other side of Susan, rubs the little girl's back softly. She's wearing gloves to stop her cold skin from bothering Susan. She told Hermione that it was a trick that her own mother and father had used often when she was a child.

"Who brought the girl, again?" Hermione asks.

"Tina Goldstein, she's an American," Harry shrugs. "She's been campaigning for a bill to make it legal for human-born vampires to go to vampire schools."

And the Death Eaters killed her neighbors, leaving the child alive. Just to show that they can. Just to show they can do whatever they want with human lives. Take it away or leave it according to their whims.

"That would certainly get the attention of the Death Eaters," Hermione smiles down at Susan, who grins back. She has yet to ask for her parents. Hermione is not looking forward to that happening. When she grows up, she will learn that her parents died to send a message to a vampire, to make a statement in a war that had nothing to do with them.

"Harry," Ginny says, looking up. "It's not that I'm not glad you back and all, but weren't you sent to do a job by Dumbledore?"

Harry waves his hand in dismissal, "What, finding the missing dementors? Found them, destroyed them, came back, met Tina."

"Brought a human child home with you," Ginny finishes. "And what exactly do you expect us to with her now? Did you even think about that?"

"Of course I did!"

"So, what's your plan?"

Hermione hides a smile. It's always entertaining to listen to Harry and Ginny's not-lovers quarrels. She's not entirely sure what Harry and Ginny are to each other at the moment. They're very close, but there's a tension between them that doesn’t exist between Harry and Hermione, so she doesn’t know if they can be called 'friends'.

"And what should I have done? Her whole family is dead!"

"She's a human, maybe she should have been left with humans," Ginny argues, and Hermione looks up at her. Ginny is the only one among them who knows what it's like to be a human raised by vampires. She's the only one who knows what that's like, being prey in a family of predators.

"Mony?" The little girl squeaks. That's the closest Hermione could get the girl to pronouncing her name correctly.

"Yes, sweetie?" Hermione asks gently.

"More block?"

"Here," Hermione hands another block to Susan and turns back to Ginny and Harry. "It doesn’t matter if Harry should or shouldn't have brought her here. She's here now and our responsibility."

"All right, but what are we going to do with her?" Harry asks.

"I'm sure Sirius and Remus will take care of her," Ginny says.

"They're already raising Teddy; how many orphans are they supposed to take care of?" Harry frowns.  

Hermione and Ginny exchange a look. Teddy, the so of Sirius's cousin, was born four years earlier, a few days before his mother was killed by Death Eaters. Remus and Sirius had taken the baby in. The cheerful vampire child was the best thing to have happened in the last fifteen years of war.

"I'm sure Sirius and Remus will be more then glad to take Susan on," Hermione says. "And until they come home, I'll watch over Susan."

"You?" Harry blinks, then grins. "Yeah, I suppose of the three of us you'd be the best suited for the job."

Just then Susan's tower of blocks comes tumbling to the ground and Susan stares at her destroyed masterpiece before bursting into tears.

Immediately Harry and Ginny jump up and Ginny says hastily, "Well, um, good luck, Hermione."

And then they sprint out of the room.

***

The past fifteen years have been, in Harry's opinion, ridiculously annoying.

It was one thing to have to fight a war. But to fight a war against a hidden enemy, who used their anonymity to prevent his side from recruiting properly, that put them in opposition with their own Ministry, that struck in unknown places, an enemy with a mysterious leader who, even after fifteen years, has yet to be seen by any member of the Order of the Phoenix- that was just far too frustrating.

Dumbledore kept saying that Voldemort (Harry was still working on calling him 'Riddle'. Old habits died hard) was hiding to make himself into a dangerous shade over them.

"If we don’t know where he is, we can always imagine he's right behind us," Dumbledore had told Harry just a few weeks ago, before Harry had left The Burrow. "He wants us to spend all our time wondering, _if he here, is he there, is he killing my family right this instance_?"

Well, Harry hates it. He hates the waiting, when days and weeks and months go by and nothing happens, and you spent your time waiting, watching to hear about the next atrocity, the next slaughtered family found, the next member of the Order torn to pieces. And the atrocities always came, one after another.

"They're planning something," Harry says quietly. He's sitting in The Burrow's kitchen, repairing the tears in some shirts with Ginny's help. Above them, in Remus and Sirius's room, they can hear Susan babbling and Teddy laughing. Hermione can be heard in her and Ginny's room humming to herself as she flips the pages of some book, and Fluer is singing to herself in her and Bill's room. The rest of the Order are either out on missions or in the little huts built outside The Burrow, since there isn't nearly enough room inside the house for everyone.

"Are you talking to yourself, Harry, or am I expected to answer?" Ginny asks dryly behind him.

"Ginny, I have a bad feeling," Harry continues, ignoring her sarcastic comment. "They're up to something."

"They're always up to something," Ginny comes up next to him, folding her arms. He looks at her from the corner of his eye. She's so beautiful it hurts him. He wants to touch her so badly, to run his fingers through her hair, to kiss her lush lips. But he knows he can't. Ginny hates it when people touch her without asking for permission, without giving her ample warning in advance.

"No, I know," Harry shrugs. "But Gin, this is the fourth time they've attacked human houses close to Ministry embassies. Tell me that's a coincidence."

"I tend to assume most of what the Death Eaters do isn't a coincidence," Ginny replies. She gives Harry a had look. "You're thinking that they're trying to get the Minister's attention."

"I am."

"That would be one hell of a change of pace, wouldn’t it? Given that until now they'd been doing everything to keep out of the Ministry's way."

"I know, but Ginny…" Harry raises his hands. "There's something wrong, something off."

"All right, I see your point," Ginny frowns. "Also, Susan, she's a very cute girl."

"Ah…yeah, adorable. What does that have to do with anything?"

"She would make a very good prop," Ginny continues. "Can you imagine it? If we tried to talk to the High Court, and show her off as proof of the Death Eaters' savagery. She's so very cute that even vampires who see humans as just food might be touched."

"That's a rather cold way of looking at it," Harry says with a frown. "She's a child, not an object."

"That's not how I look it her, I'm just suggesting that's how others might look at her," Ginny says, eyes harsh. "I think you're right. I think the Death Eaters are trying to start a war with the Ministry."

***

"Am I interrupting something?"

Albus throws the last chimera into the large hole, ignoring Gellert's ridiculous question. He leans down on the floor, clutching his hand to the open wound on his side, and waits for it to heal.

"How many were there?"

"Twelve, maybe," Albus gasps as he feels the skin stich itself back together. Of all the abilities the Four Gods gave them, couldn't not feeling pain be one of them? He's heard of some humans who are incapable of feeling pain. Couldn't he have that genetic quark? "They were here when I got here." He looks around the quiet construction site.

"You should have just waited for me at the rendezvous point," Gellert comes over, sidestepping the hole in the ground where twelve chimeras are growling at one another, trapped. If not given food they will soon begin eating each other. They were already starved when released to hunt Albus. He could smell it on their breath.

"I did," Albus accepts an offered hand and allows Gellert to hoist him on to his feet.

"Look at that, like Daniel in the lion den," Gellert looks down.

"Except we're missing a Daniel."

"That's true."

Albus glances at Gellert. He had a wicked look in his eyes that makes Albus very nervous.

"Gellert," He says warningly.

Gellert's smile just grows wider, "I'm going to find the werewolves who tailed me. I would like to see chimeras tearing someone to shreds."

"You're so charming," Albus sneers.

"Ah, but you love my bloodlust," Gellert mumbles, grabbing Albus's wrists and spinning him around. "Don’t you, my love?"

"Wait-" Albus gasps as he tumbles to the ground and Gellert climbs on top of him.  "Is this really the right time?"

"Sex, brings out some magnificent scents. Sure to attract two werewolves looking for a vampire who escaped them," Gellert murmurs.

"Gods," Albus rolls his eyes and raises himself to grab Gellert's face. "You're mad, why do I put up with you?"

"Because you love me, remember?"  Gellert grins, running his hand over Albus's chest. "Because you love me more than anyone else in the world does?"

"Yeah, that's why," Albus sighs and allows Gellert's hand to venture downwards.

***

"You're leaving?" Ginny swallows. "Why?"

Remus rubs the back of his neck, "I have to. I'm the only werewolf working for the Order. I'm the only one who can go under cover with Greyback's group."

"But what about Sirius? You expect him to take care of the kids alone? And what about me, I need you too!" She feels an anger rising in her, bubbling up from the pit of her stomach. She tries to breath in, to calm herself, but she's shaking.

Remus sighs and sits down, motioning Ginny over. She hesitates for a moment and then walks forwards and sits down next to him.

"Sirius will take care of the children," He says gently. "He can do more then most think. But I'm sure you all will help him if he needs it. I don’t like this, but I don’t have a choice. And as for you, Ginny, I think you are much stronger then you look. Much stronger then you think you are."

"I don’t think you're right," Ginny says bitterly. "If I were as strong as you think, I wouldn’t have these dreams anymore, not after fifteen years. But I still do. Do you know how long fifteen years is-"

"Ginny," Remus says her name gently. "Being strong doesn’t mean never falling down. It means falling down over and over again and raising back up. And you are an expert on that. And fifteen years may be a long time for humans, but it's not long for us."

Ginny sighs, "Do you think…do you think they will ever go away? They get fewer and fewer, I only have them every few months now, but every time I think they're gone for good they come back. Every time they come back, I'm so disappointed, so _angry_. It's not _fair_."

"No, it's so, so unfair," Remus stands up and wraps his arms around Ginny. She leans her face into his sweater and inhales deeply. She doesn’t even mind that he touched her without asking. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

"I want to cry," She mumbles. "Can't, though."

"It will come, like everything else did," Remus says gently.

Ginny smiles weakly, detaching herself from Remus, and says, "I assume you'll be leaving right away?"

"Right away, unfortunately," Remus pats her head. "I'm sorry I didn’t give you more of a warning."

"And what am I supposed to do if I need help while you're gone?" Ginny knows she's being childish, but she can't help herself, she's scared.

"If you need help while I'm gone, you can always ask your family," Remus replies. "Or maybe Harry. He was there too, at the bloodfarm. He might be the only one who can understand what you're feeling."

Ginny freezes, "I don’t need his help, Remus."

"Isn't he your friend?"

"He is," But Ginny has drawn a very clear line in between them. Everything concerning the future is fair game, everything concerning the past is off limits. This arraignment has allowed them to become close, but Ginny's never been able to feel completely comfortable around Harry. She just couldn’t help it. There was a part of her that wanted to burn him alive, to take his heart out the way she had seen done to her brother. But there was another part of her that wanted to push him on a bed and fuck him the way she had fucked those faceless and nameless men she found in bars.

"Then talk to him. That's what friends are for," Remus smiles down at her. "You'll see, one day. When you need him, he'll be there. That's not something that can be said about a lot of people, but I think we can safely say that about Harry."

***

Harry finds Ginny in front of the family graveyard. She's standing in front of her brother Ron's grave, her long hair tied back in a braid, wearing a grey two-piece suit and flat heels. Harry finds the new fashions odd. He never used to see women in pants. It took him some time getting used to it, but Hermione and Ginny had switched to pants as soon as it was 'culturally acceptable'.

"Hi," He says quietly. "You're dad's back."

"Hmm," Ginny hums, not looking away from the grave. Harry comes up to stand beside her and looks down at the engravement on the stone. _Ronald_ _Bilius_ _Weasley, 1844-1970, loving brother and son. Died for the protection of others_.

"Would you like me to leave?" Harry asks quietly. "I shouldn't interfere with your mourning."

Ginny stays silent for a moment, but as Harry starts walking away he hears, "I never know when it will attack again."

Harry stops and turns back. He walks back to Ginny's side, "You mean the grief."

"Yeah."

"I know, I get it too," Harry says. "For my mom."

Ginny gives him a look, "Do you remember her?"

"I…no," Harry shakes his head, a pit of shame growing in his stomach. "She died at my birth. She was a human, there were some complications. My mom started bleeding, and I-"

"You drank from her, didn't you?"

"I did," Harry feels the sting of tears in his eyes. "My father says she would have died anyways, she was bleeding to much. But I didn't help, that's for sure."

"You blame yourself, you shouldn't," Ginny says softly.

"That's rich coming from you. You've spent the last fifteen years blaming yourself for your brother's death when it's me that's responsible."

Crap, that wasn't a smart thing to say. Harry hides his eyes behind his palm. Why had he said that?

"Harry."

Harry puts his hand down. Ginny is walking towards him, her emerald eyes shining with furious intent, and grabs his wrists. She so rarely initiates physical contact with him, and it makes him weak with excitement.

"You should have told me," Ginny says calmly. "You should have told me years ago."

Harry wants to answer, but he can't, because he's suddenly kissing Ginny. He wants to wrap his arms around Ginny's waist, but he won't scare her away. They'll take this as slow as she wants. He knows he's different, so different from the men he smells on Ginny when she gets back to The Burrow.

Ginny steps away from Harry and takes a deep breath. She smiles, a genuine, real smile that lights Harry up instead.

"I want…I want you," She says quietly, "But it's not easy. You know that, right?"

"Both parts," Harry squeaks.

Ginny nods slowly, "All right. So, let's just…see where this goes. Come on, let's go see what my dad wants."

***

Living for over six hundred years has its disadvantages. For one, things changed all the time, and you had to keep up with all the changes. Gellert wasn't that bad at that (his Al was quite awful at it, always behind the times), but it was still annoying. Sure, there were a lot of things in the past he was not fond of and was quite glad were gone (witch burning would be in that category, so would that period when humans put led on their faces to make themselves look better), but there were quite a lot of things that he was sad to see go, but there was nothing he could do about it when it disappeared from the world. There were animals that were no longer alive, human structures changed, buildings were destroyed, whole cities would disappear without a trace.

But one of the most annoying things about living so long was that there were so few things he hadn't seen. He'd seen a human eating another human for sustenance when they were stranded on an island together. He'd seen the ghost of a vampire who had died during intercourse and who had a raging erection for the rest of his existence (why he had chosen to remain as a ghost was beyond Gellert). And those were some of the tamer stories he had. But interestingly enough, he'd never seen werewolves being mauled alive by chimeras.

He's quite enjoying it. It's rather unique. The werewolves fall into the pit one after the other, and he can hear their screams before anything else. It's not the sound of pain, but of fear. They can see the chimeras' snapping mouths underneath them.

Then the screams are replaced by a deadly silence as the werewolves stand, growling at the animals as the chimeras growl back at them. Gellert leans forward to get a better look as the two parties attack at the same time.

The werewolves put on a good fight, but there are only three of them to the chimeras' twelve. If it was a full moon, the chimeras would have found themselves in several different pieces in seconds. But the werewolves are in their human form- still strong, but not nearly enough. The chimeras devour them alive. there's quite a lot of blood, some of which splash up to Gellert. But he moves to the side, avoiding to liquid. Al doesn’t like it when he's covered in blood, and he's in a such good mood, he really doesn’t want to ruin it with an argument.

After the werewolves are dead and devoured, it becomes clear that the creatures are still not satisfied. They growl at one another, and then attack.

"Al, want to see some chimera cannibalism?" Gellert cries over the animalistic shrieks of pain.

He can almost hear Al's eye roll.

"I'll pass on that pleasure."

"You're loss," Gellert shrugs. "It's truly magnificent."

"Oh, for the love of the gods," He can hear Albus stomping towards him and he's spun to face his lover. Al looks good with that anger in frustration in his eyes. "I need to go back to The Burrow. If you want to stay here and watch this, be my guest. But I have better things to do, and so do you. You're needed at Nurmengard."

"Come on, love, even leaders are allowed to have some fun," Gellert grins. He gives Al his most charming and mischievous smile, the one that makes people forget his true age and treat him like a harmless teen. He knows that smile doesn't work on Albus (none of his marvelous smiles work on him), but Al's sometimes amused by it, anyways. He's feeling rather desperate to keep Al with him for just a bit longer. His body still aches comfortably from Al fucking him earlier to draw out the werewolves (he's definitely using that tactic again) and he wants another go.

Al closes his eyes, "Don’t. That won't work. The smile. I'm not entertained."

"Not even a little?"

"Not even a little," Albus says, but Gellert swears his mouth is turning up slightly. He tests it by kissing Albus, and when he's not pushed away he moves forwards and wraps his arms around Al's neck.

"You know, you keep complaining about me, but how do you expect me to change if you just reward me for bad behavior?" Gellert mumbles into Al's ear.

"I should do a lot of things that I don’t do," Albus wraps Gellert in a hug and sighs heavily. He seems unwilling to let go, and Gellert doesn’t try to push him away. He likes being held like that, like Albus is afraid to let go. Which he probably is.

"Al, love," He whispers in his ear, switching to Gaelic from their usual German. "It doesn't matter, you know, what happens. The whole world can be on fire for all I care, no one is taking you from me." He tightens his hold on Albus. "No one, not ever."

***

The little girl stares up at Albus with an intensity not usually seen with children of her age. Her eyes are narrowing as though she's thinking very hard, trying to decide wither or not she's frightened of him. He won’t blame her if she decided that she is. He's staring at her with what he can only assume is fury in his eyes.

 _Tina found her in her crib. Who knows how long she'd been laying there all by herself_ , Sirius's words echo through his head.

It seems Susan has come to a decision about him, as she blinks at him and then walks away, back to the huge pile of dolls that Albus assumes Sirius had given her (he was always worried that Sirius would either spoil his children rotten or accidently kill them). She sits down on the floor and begins playing, completely ignoring both Albus and Sirius, who's sitting on the bed, watching the girl.

Albus clears his throat, "How long ago did this happen, Sirius?"

"Nearly three months," Sirius replies. He places a hand on Susan's head and caresses her hair, his eyes full of tenderness. "She's been doing all right. I don’t think she remembers much of her parents, already."

"She will remember nothing of her family, when she grows up," Albus says quietly. "Humans don’t remember anything from their earliest years."

"We'll tell her about them," Sirius replies. "But we're her family now, too."

"Sirius," Albus says gently. "If you don't want to do this, I can find a good human home for her. It might be better for her to be among her own kind."

Sirius snorts, "You know, that's what people told me when I started seeing Remus. That we can't be together because I'd be happier with someone of my own kind."

_Point taken._

"I'm happy with him and Susan is happy with us. Aren't you, darling?"

Susan looks up and points to one of her dolls, "Play with me?"

"Sure thing, dear," Sirius settles down on the floor next to her as Teddy bursts into the room to join them. He's a lively boy, small for his age, with the same brown hair as his mother and dark skin that comes from the Black side of his heritage. He looks so much like his mother, it makes Albus's heart tighten. Just another death that can be laid on his feet, as all deaths from this war can.

Albus stands up, leaving the newly-constructed family. He comes down the stairs and finds Hermione and Harry sitting in the living room. They both look up as he comes in and give him wide smiles.

"Hello, sir," Hermione says quietly.

Albus nods at her and sits down, sinking into a plush chair. For a few seconds they sit in silence, listening to the children's voices coming from above, and then Albus says, "We're going to the Ministry."

Hermione and Harry exchange a glance and then Harry says, "Again?"

"Again."

"Why? The last ten times you tried Fudge wouldn't let you speak in front of the High Court. What makes you think-" Hermione stops herself, eyes flicking up. "You're going to use Susan, aren’t you?"

"Susan, and the eyes Tina collected," Albus replies, pleased with Hermione's quick thinking.

"Wait, wait," Harry shakes his head. "You're going to use Susan as a prop? You can't do that!"

Albus frowns at Harry's vehement disapproval. He leans forward towards Harry and says calmly, "We're trying to get justice for the deaths of her parents and siblings-"

"Susan is a little girl, she's not a tool for you to use and discard," Harry snaps. He's looking at Hermione for support, and she shrugs at him, as if to say she's going to remain neutral for now.

Albus leans backwards again, rubbing his face, "I'm not going to discard her, Harry."

"So you admit to using her?"

"I need to use her," Albus says quietly. "What would your plan be, hmm?"

Harry opens his mouth and closes it again. He shakes his head, "I don't know. But what you're doing is _wrong_. It just is."

 _Must be nice_ , Albus thinks bitterly. _To be able to call something immoral and leave it behind. I don't have that luxury, I have to do something, even if the only thing I can do is not morally pure._


	3. Doubts

_Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured_

_-Mark Twain_

Harry pounds on the door harder then he had intended. So hard, in fact, that little splinters of wood come off the sleek red wooden door. Harry groans at the mess he made. _Really, Potter_ , he chides himself, _don’t you know how to control yourself by now?_

The door opens and Luna appears. She's dressed in a old-fashioned white, flowing dress. She looks like the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw that Harry had met once. Ethereal and supernatural.

"Oh, hello, Harry, how are you? You look very upset," Luna moves to the side. "Come in."

"Thanks, Luna," Harry mumbles and walks into the one-room hut. There are about twenty of them, built over the years since The Burrow became the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Luna's hut is full of the strange things she's found over the years. Seven goblin skulls, a necklace made of giants' teeth, something she claimed was the feces of a Blibbering Humdinger and Hermione claimed was dried dirt. She also had books from the thirteenth century, her family's Four Gospels. Hermione loves those books, calling them beautiful and 'magnificent historical artefacts'. Luna says she can hear her ancestors talking to her when she opens them.

Luna glides into the room and sits down on her bed. Luna's father lives quite close to The Burrow, but Luna stays in her hut most of the time, to be closer to the Order and the thestrals.

"Luna, I need to ask you about Dumbledore," Harry says as he picks up the Gospel of Gryffindor, opening it in a random page and reads: _We'll worship the Red, Him with brave and great deeds to his name._

"About Albus?" Luna tilts her head. "Is that why you're upset? Did something happen?"

Harry sighs and sits down on a chair. Luna stands up from the bed and comes over, going down on her knees and looking Harry in the eye. "Tell me what happened, Harry."

"I don’t know if I can trust him," Harry mumbles. "I think he's using me, I think he's using all of us."

Luna frowns, "How do you mean?"

Harry shakes his head, "You've known Dumbledore for a long time, haven’t you?"

"Yes, rather long time," Luna replies. "And you would like to know if he's ever done anything I consider morally reprehensible."

Harry blinks. Luna can be creepy sometimes.

"Um, yeah."

"Hmm," Luna stands up and starts walking to the window, looking out. "I heard about what Albus is planning to talk to the Minister, and what he's planning with the human child."

Harry looks down at her the floor, "Tell me I'm not the only one who thinks this is wrong."

Luna shrugs, "I wouldn't know, I can't tell you what everyone in the world thinks about it."

"So just tell me what _you_ think about it."

Luna tilts her head, thinking, then says, "I don’t think she will care as much, when she grows up, whether or not the people who killed her parents and siblings are dead. At least not as much as she'll care about other things. Like if she was raised with love and compassion."

"Right…does that mean you agree with me, that it's wrong?"

"Not really, Harry. I just think it's less important than you think, I don’t think it matters much what Albus does, especially since she won't be hurt in any way. I'm saying that if you care about Susan you should put your efforts into taking care of her, into helping Sirius to raise her right."

"So what you're saying is that I shouldn't pay so much attention to what Dumbledore does. Is that what you're saying?" Harry's feeling rather lost.

"No, Dumbledore is rather important. But he's just not the only one who's important. Haven't you realized, Harry, that every deed done by every man has an effect on the world? The world is like a pond. Even the smallest pebble creates a ripple."

"Ok," Harry rubs his eyes. "I think we're getting off track."

"What would you like to talk about?" Luna asks. "You still look conflicted."

"I am! I don’t like this… _side_ of Dumbledore."

"Do you think, because he's using Susan in a way you disapprove of, that he could use you as well?" Luna doesn't wait for Harry to answer, just goes on. "Or perhaps that's not what worries you. Do you think that Albus is not treating Susan the way you want her to be treated because she's a human?"

Harry looks out the window. Far away, underneath the hill The Burrow grounds are on, he can see the flickering light off the nearby human village.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," He says sincerely.

Luna shrugs, "You would like to treat humans as more then food, but there will always be a part of you that will see them as a meal."

"I know…"

"Well, Albus is the same."

"Yeah, I know, Luna."

"Maybe you don’t," Luna says dreamily. "Maybe you think Dumbledore doesn't feel that way. Maybe you think he's moved past that. Maybe you forgot that he's neither a god nor a saint."

"So, what you're telling me is that Dumbledore only uses humans as tools? That he doesn’t use vampires in that way?"

Something flickers in Luna's eyes, and when she says _yes_ , Harry knows somewhere very deep down that she's lying.

***

When Ginny gets home with her mother, she's surprised to find almost everyone sitting together in the parlor, staring at the TV.

"What's going on?" She asks quietly as she walks over to Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Back home-well, our home," Hermione says quietly, exchanging a look with his father and Hermione, the other two Americans in the crowd of observers. "Look."

Ginny frowns and looks at the screen. It looks like a rally of some kind.

"The police arrested a whole bunch of them," Harry says as the people chant, _health care is a right! Health care is a right!_

"What is this about?"

"AIDs," Harry puts a hand over Ginny's. "They want the government to get them medicine."

"Jeez," Ginny mumbles. Human speech patters were hard to shake sometimes.

"Ever drink from a human with the disease? Disgusting," Someone mumbles.

"Shut up," Ginny, Harry, Hermione and a few others say at the same time. Ginny shivers. Sometimes vampires disgust her.

"Ginny," Harry mumbles quietly to her. Ginny looks down, realizing that her hands had curled into fists. "It's all right."

"It's not," Ginny replies. "Why is it that the universe always finds new ways to fuck humans over?"

"It finds ways to fuck vampires over, too," Harry replies. "We're all fucked over in the end."

Ginny closes her eyes for a moment, opening it to see a man on screen being dragged away by police.

"This is odd," Sirius mumbles. "I can't say I'm used to seeing humans making this kind of statement."

"The one about everyone being able to fuck whoever they want?"

"Yes, Hermione, that one."

"This is why you should pay more attention to the human world, Sirius. This has been going on for some time now," Hermione replies.

"Remember the Revolution?" Luna says dreamily.

"The French one?" Arthur asks.

"I was actual thinking about the American one," Luna shrugs.

"See?" Ginny says. "Humans fight for themselves, they've always done so."

"I'm glad you think so," Ginny's father says gently. "It means your entire life you've lived among fighting humans. But humans weren't always like that. They used to be very sheep-like."

" _Don’t_ say that," Ginny snaps. She doesn't like humans being compared to sheep. Her father nods at her.

"I'm sorry, love, I didn’t mean-"

"Forget it," Ginny stomps out of the room, suddenly overwhelmed by the tens of vampires crowded into the room.

***

Ginny rushes out of the room so fast that she causes a gust of wind to hit Harry in the face. Immediately he jumps up and runs after her, nearly colliding with Mr. Weasley.

Harry puts a hand on Mr. Weasley's shoulder and says, "I'll go to Ginny, Mr. Weasley. Don’t worry."

Mr. Weasley opens his mouth and then closes it before nodding. Harry pats Mr. Weasley on the shoulder and walks up the stairs to Ginny and Hermione's room. He jumps when he hears something smashing on the floor. Mr. Weasley turns around, but Harry shakes his head at him and says, "I'll take care of it, Mr. Weasley."

Mr. Weasley hesitates, and then nods slowly and claps Harry on the shoulder, "Watch over her, yes?"

Harry nods as he hears Ginny shriek and another object smashing onto the floor. Taking a deep breath, Harry walks up to the door slowly. He taps on it and says gently, "It's me, Gin. Do you want me to come in?"

He can hear Ginny's dry sobs as the door opens and Ginny appears. She looks up at him, eyes wide, and motions him into the room.

"It's hard, sometimes," Ginny says as she pulls her hair into a pony tail, speaking quietly enough so that no one other than the two of them can hear. Harry looks around the see that Ginny's mattress has been ripped to shreds, sending the feathers flying into the room and sticking to her hair, and two of her vases had been smashed on the ground. Her mother won’t be pleased. Those vases are from the tenth century China. "I get mad and I don’t know why."

Harry folds his arms and leans against the wall, "Do you want to hit something? Want to hit me, will that help?"

Ginny frowns at him as she pulls at her pony tail, "Does that help people?"

"Some," Harry shrugs. "Sirius can get really pissed sometimes."

"Does Remus let him hit him?" Ginny raises a finger.

"He gets him a punching bag," Harry grins.

"So, Sirius doesn’t hit Remus," Ginny replies. "But you want me to hit you. Are you something of a masochistic?"

"Really, Gin," Harry rolls his eyes. "I just want to help you. Just tell me what you need, all right?"

Ginny starts stomping around the room and growls, "If I knew what I needed I would have asked for it a long time ago."

"Fair enough," Harry tracks Ginny's movements.

"It's the disease," Ginny rubs her eyes. "It scares me. Everyone I've ever met is in danger."

"Every human you've ever met is in danger of a lot of things," Harry frowns.

"That's it, isn’t it? So many dangers, and they'll die anyway, even if they keep themselves safe from all those dangers. And there's nothing I can do about it, unless I want to turn all of them into vampires. All of my school friends, they're adults now, the probably have children of their own. The children I nannied, they're in their twenties. Physically exactly the same as me. And I'm…"

"Ginny, we're not immune from the dangers of the universe."

"We've got a better chance of fighting the dangers off," Ginny replies. "I miss being human. You appreciate life so much more when you know it will be over."

Harry looks down at his feet, "I know, I'm sorry."

"Harry James Potter, I swear to all the gods of all the societies of this wide, wide world that if you apologize one more time, I will punch you so hard in the testicles they will shoot all the way to your throat."

"Sounds fair."

***

A few hours later, Ginny and Hermione sit together on The Burrow roof. Ginny's been sitting there for a few hours before Hermione came up and asked to join. Ginny likes how Hermione asks for things. She asks as though she's prepared herself for both answers, for a yes and a no, and knows exactly how to act in either situation. Nothing can surprise someone so prepared. It means Ginny doesn't have to worry about how her answer with effect Hermione, she can just answer the way she wants. It's not like her mother, who asks but has only really thought of the option that Ginny says yes. When Ginny says no, that she doesn’t want her mother to join her, Molly seems entirely lost, unsure of what to do, and it makes Ginny incredibly uncomfortable.

"I see why you like it up here," Hermione says as she looks down at the huts. "It's quiet."

Ginny grins, swinging her legs back and forth, "I like to imagine how quickly the huts would burn if I threw a match from up here." She winces at her own words.

"Sorry," she shakes her head. "That was morbid."

"Slightly," But Hermione is smiling. She gives her a curious look. "Do you think about it a lot? Fire, I mean?"

Ginny shrugs, "Whenever I'm not thinking about something else."

"Hmm," Hermione places a hand on her neck, where her pale scar can still be seen. Ginny follows it with her eyes.

"Do you think about blades a lot?"

"Not really," Hermione replies. "But sometimes I have dreams where I can't move, and I think, _oh God, the Dead Man's Blood is in me again_. It's rather terrifying."

Ginny frowns down at her swinging feet, "You still say 'god'."

"You still say 'jeez'."

"I guess we can't escape it, can we?"

"Are you trying to?"

_Smart Hermione._

"Not so much, anymore. It frustrates my family, you know? Percy especially. He says it's not proper."

Hermione rolls her eyes, "Ginny, no offence to your blood relations, but you know what I think about your brother Percy's ideas of what's _proper_."

Ginny snorts in laughter, and Hermione turns to her, and smiles widely.

"Oh, I made you laugh! I must be doing something right."

"Shut up," Ginny gently pushes Hermione. She looks back down at the huts.

"Hi, Ginny."

"Yes, Hermione?"

"It really scared you, didn’t it?" She doesn't need to say what she's talking about.

Ginny looks back up at Hermione, and finds herself saying, "It scared you, too."

Hermione nods, slowly, "Very, very much. Odd, isn't it? Given the fact that we're not in danger of it."

Ginny shakes her head at Hermione, "Really. You say that as if you should only be able to be scared of things that can hurt us directly. If that was true, you wouldn't spent so much time being afraid for your blond-boy."

"My blond-boy?" Hermione blinks at her, then blushes lightly and looks away. "Is that how you call him?"

Ginny shrugs, "He is blond, isn’t it? And despite his age he is very much still a boy."

"I'm not scared for him, I barely know him-"

"Hi, Hermione?"

"Um, yes?"

"No lying up on the roof," Ginny waves her finger at Hermione, copying one of Teddy's favorite moves.

Hermione laughs, but Ginny can see the worry still itched into her eyes.

***

Hermione finds Dumbledore in his hut. It's the largest one, and located the farthest away from The Burrow. Hermione supposes that Dumbledore wanted privacy when the huts were constructed, a place to go to where he can be alone, away from all their demands.

The door is open and Dumbledore looks up from a book he's reading when Hermione walks in after knocking softly, and puts the book down.

"I want to come with you to the Ministry," She demands without preamble. "I don't want to sit around doing nothing while this is going on."

Dumbledore frowns at her and then shakes his head and looks back down, "No."

"No?" Hermione repeats, dumbstruck. "Why, you don’t think I can help?"

"I think you can be of immense help," Dumbledore says gently, as if he's placating a child. "But you're a human-born vampire, and I will not subject you to the humiliation you'd have to undergo if you go to the Ministry headquarters. So, you won’t be coming."

"I'm used to humiliation," Hermione says dryly. "Or did you forget where I grew up? _When_ I grew up?"

"That's exactly why you're not going there. You've had to suffer through that kind of humiliation too much in your life."

"I can handle it," She says stubbornly.

"You don't need to," Dumbledore puts the book down.

"I can handle it!"

"I don’t think you can."

"That's not your choice," Hermione frowns. " _I_ decide what _I_ can suffer through, not you. And I think I can handle it."

'You don't even know what you'll have to handle," Dumbledore pushes himself up. "So, why don't you listen. You'll have to wear a tag identifying you as my property, because I'm your creator. If you don't wear the tag I'll be fined and you will be jailed until I pay the fine. You will not be allowed to speak unless you speak through me. Any talking out of turn will end with you having your tongue cut out, not by Damascus steel, so it will grow back, but it will incredibly painful. Speak for a second time, you'll lose your tongue for good. You will be treated worse then an animal. You'll be treated-"

"You know," Hermione says slowly. "I find it hard to understand why vampires consider themselves so superior to humans. I think humans have a distinct advantage in this area, no? My people aren't slaves anymore."

Dumbledore hesitates, then puts a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She shrugs it off.

"I've never been around vampires other then members of the Order of the Phoenix, and Death Eaters. I've never actually met vampires who see me the way the Ministry sees me. I've met vampires who think I should be dead, I've never met ones who want to keep me as an object to be used. You kept me away from all of them."

Dumbledore closes his eyes. Hermione looks down, not wanting to see the pain on his face. It makes him look scared, and that makes her nervous.

"I was trying to protect you."

Hermione shakes her head, "I don’t need protection. I just need to know the truth about my life. About who I am, and how others see me. So I can be prepared."

"Prepared? If I have my way, you will never meet any of them, you will never go to the Ministry."

"I don’t need your protection! I don’t need you to kid-proof the world for me! I'm perfectly capable of facing it!" Hermione yells, not caring that everyone in The Burrow can hear her. "I've been facing the world from the moment I was born. I am only alive because someone treated my mother like an object to be used, like she was a _whore._ You think I don’t understand what it's like to be used, to be objectified? I've faced it all, and I survived. You think the Ministry can break me? The whole American South couldn't break me, so they will? Fuck you!"

"Hermione…" Dumbledore raises his hands in submission, but she pushes past him to the door.

"I'm coming with you to the Ministry. I won't say a thing, don’t worry. But I will listen. You'll see afterwards how much invisible people can hear."

***

"You'll stay with Uncle James and Harry," Sirius says as Harry walks into the living room. Sirius is down on one knee, looking Teddy straight in the eye, while Susan lays sleeping in her carriage, her mouth slightly open, breathing softly. "And you'll be a good boy for them, right?"

"When will you and Susie be back?" Teddy asks, scratching his nose. "Will you bring me back some special blood?"

"We'll be back soon, and I'll see what I can do about the blood," Sirius ruffles Teddy's hair.

"And when you get back, will Papa come back as well?"

Sirius sighs, "I hope he'll be back soon. Just remember, sweetheart, that Papa loves you very much. And do you know why he left?"

Teddy nods, "To make the world a safer place for me. And Susie."

"That's right," Sirius gives Teddy a long hug before releasing him and smiling. "Now, why don't you go with Harry. He's been lurking in the back there for a while now."

Teddy frowns, waggling his finger at Harry, "Eavesdropping is a no-no, Harry."

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black," Harry grins, remembering all the times he caught Teddy trying to sneak into Order meetings.

Teddy frowns, confusion clear on his face, "What kettle? Where?"

"It's a metaphor- never mind. When you're older, you'll get it," Harry scoops Teddy up. He's a soft comforting presence against him.

 _He'll harden as he ages_ , Harry thinks. It's not a pleasant thought. Vampire children are rare- Mrs. Weasley is truly one of a kind to have had seven children- and treasured above all other gifts the gods can give.

Sirius watches them for a second, then sighs deeply and pushes Susan's stroller out of the door. A few moments later, Hermione comes down the stairs, hurriedly brushing off her pants suit. She smiles at Teddy and he opens his arms to her for a hug.

"Are you also going, Hermione?"

"Yeah, sorry, baby boy," Hermione hugs Teddy before placing him firmly on the ground.

"Everyone is leaving," Teddy complains.

"I'm staying," Harry objects.

But Teddy shakes his head, "You'll leave later. You all leave all the time."

He stomps out of the room, and a few moments later can be heard being greeted by Harry's father. Harry follows him and sighs heavily.

"It's not easy for him," Hermione says quietly.

"The worst part is, I can't even tell him that we'll all come back, I don’t know if that's true. It’s not good for him. Kids need consistency."

"He's a child of war. Children of war don’t often get that luxury."

"He already lost his mother. He shouldn’t have to lose anyone else."

"Harry, if only people who deserve to lose lost, there would be no orphans in this world, would there?"

Harry looks at her from the corner of his eye. She's tapping her fingers on her hip, playing out a piano tune. Harry thinks it's a Ray Charles song, but he's not sure. She's been learning how to play the piano lately. Ginny's been teaching her.

"You're nervous," He points out.

"Does it show?" The sarcasm is dripping from Hermione's voice.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Harry says. He didn't want either of his girls to go anywhere that makes them nervous, not ever again.

Hermione turns to him, murder in her eyes, and then slaps him hard on the back of his head, very hard. Hard enough to bruise. Harry sucks in a breath and puts a hand on the welt, feeling it go down almost as soon as it goes up.

"What was that for?" He demands.

"I don’t want to hear that from you, not _ever_ ," Hermione says sharply. "I don’t need you watching over me, understand?"

Harry nods slowly. He understands perfectly.

"I _do_ have to go," Hermione rubs her eyes. "And I will be fine."

"Hermione-"

"I don’t sound like my family anymore," Hermione says suddenly. Harry blinks, unsure of what to say to that. "I don’t talk like them anymore, and my accent is nearly gone. I sound like a white girl from the suburbs of New York. I sound like my _father's_ family."

"Hermione, listen-"

Hermione shakes her head and rubs Harry's arm. "Just take good care of Teddy while I'm gone. I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Wait, Hermione," Harry starts, but she pushes past him out of the door. And just like that, she's gone.


	4. A Trip To London

_Never trust anyone…especially the people you admire_

_\- Carlos Ruiz Zafón_

The Ministry headquarters are located in a large modern looking building in London. The building was built around five years earlier, and the Ministry moved their headquarters there from the countryside, wanting to be in the city. There were human offices in the building, but they seemed to change constantly. For some reason, the humans working in the offices kept fainting from loss of blood. And who has the health care coverage to deal with that?

While Sirius brings the car to a stop in the parking lot, he steals a glance in the back seat. Hermione is fidgeting, eyes trained on the building while her hand is wrapped protectively around Susan, who's sitting on her lap, dark skin against pale skin.

"Ready?" He asks quietly.

Hermione's eyes flicker to him, and he can see nothing but determination in them, and she nods.

"Right," Sirius pushes open and door and goes to open Hermione's. He takes Susan from her lap, and the child curls against his hip the way all children seem to do, no matter what species they belong to. Hermione smiles half-heartedly at him as she steps out, throwing her long braids behind her shoulder. She's a beautiful woman, Sirius suddenly realizes. He knew it before, of course.

Hermione is the kind of beauty that not so much subjective as a face. But spending so much time with her made him forget the initial reaction that people have to her (and yes, he is perfectly capable of appreciating a female's beauty even if he isn't attracted to it, thank you very much Peter. Gods, his friend was a hero who died in service of the Order but he was also such an idiot in some things). It makes him even more concerned about today then he was before. He's glad that she's Dumbledore's creation. He finds it hard to believe that anyone will have the gall to try something with Dumbledore's creation (Dumbledore's property, that's how she'll be treated today).

Suddenly Hermione whips her head and looks around wildly for a moment before sighing in disappointment and turning back to them.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Sirius asks, a little worried.

"Miony ok?" Susan repeats.

"Oh, don’t worry about me," Hermione shrugs her shoulder. "I just thought for a second that I smelled…him."

"Draco."

"Aco?" Susan blinks.

Hermione looks down, "Yeah."

"You miss him."

"Weird, isn’t it? I only knew him for a short time, and I haven't seen him for fifteen years?"

"It's not weird at all," Sirius looks at the smiling and pleased child in his arms. He knows just how quickly love can form. But he won’t tell Hermione that. He might be able to see it, but clearly she can't, and the last time he told someone who didn’t know it that she was in love he had his nose broken. Sure, Lily had ended up marrying James anyways, but it was probably not the best way to go about it. at least that's what Remus had said. Sirius had gotten no sympathy for that stunt.

"I keep smelling him. Or thinking I smell him. A familiar scent that slips away when I notice it. I'm probably just imagining it."

"I suppose if you want something bad enough…" Sirius shrugs, and Susan copies his movement. He often thinks he can smell Remus. But he never does.

"There's Dumbledore," Hermione points with her chin to the car coming up towards them. Sirius blinks when the car-lights blind him for a moment. Then the door opens and the professor steps out. He's dressed in a suit that he's had for at least forty years. He supresses a sigh. Dumbledore's fashion sense leaves much to be desired.

Dumbledore walks over, quiet and determined, and Hermione moves towards him, an automatic search for protection. Sirius waits to see if the professor will acknowledge her need, but he just gives her a strange look before turning away and clearing his throat.

"Let's go," Dumbledore says quietly and walks into the building, Hermione follows, and Sirius walks in behind her.

The building is dark and quiet as they walk in. By the way Susan shivers slightly, Sirius can assume that it's rather cold in the building as well. he pulls his leather jacket off and wraps it around the child. She hiccups slightly and leans her head on his shoulder, her shivering ceasing.

Sirius follows Dumbledore down a few steps and through a door, into a small office space. Dumbledore goes over to the desk in the middle of the space and pushes is aside slightly, revealing a hidden door, which Hermione walks over to and opens. A gust of wind comes up and sends hair flying across Sirius's face. He spits out a strand of hair that got caught in his mouth.

"I preferred the old place," Sirius shakes his head. "You just walked in, none of this cloak-and-dagger nonsense."

His comment is entirely ignored by Hermione and Dumbledore, who jumps into the door and disappears. A moment later Sirius hears him hitting the ground and Hermione turns to him and motions him forward.

"Well you go first, please?" She asks.

Sirius shrugs. "I don’t mind."

He moves over to the door and jumps in. Susan laughs as they fall through the air for a moment, and gasps in shock when they land on the ground. Sirius moves along the long cave, and hears Hermione land behind him. It's rather dark, but there's a light coming from ahead of them, though they can't see the source just yet. Dumbledore has already started walking forward, and Sirius and Hermione hurry to catch up with him.

"Sirius," Hermione puts a hand on his shoulder.

"What is it?"

"Grindelwald's ideology is similar to that of the Ministry, right? I mean, in the way they treat human-born vampires."

Sirius frowns, "The Ministry doesn’t care much about how people treat the human-born vampires they create. What matters to the Ministry is the way Grindelwald tries to force his ideas on others: he's a rather military-oriented person. Have you noticed? He enjoys a good fight. The Ministry finds that rather disturbing. But not all his eyes concern human-born vampires. He also has ideas on how the society of vampires should operate."

"But in the Ministry-"

"Inside the Ministry, human-born vampires are treated as property," Sirius replies. "At least on paper. I mean, you may not be allowed to talk but no one is _actually_ going to cut your tongue out. These rules are… more a left-over from another time. Most Ministry workers don't believe in that short of thing anymore, or at least don’t have a very strong opinion, but change comes slowly in the Ministry. Very, very slowly."

"So, it's laws and procedures, hmm," Hermione shakes her head. There's a ferocious anger in her eyes.

"And indifference. Mostly indifference, in my opinion."

"Indifference can be worse then hatred," Hermione tells him. "I've experienced that before."

"I'm sure you have," Sirius replies quietly.

"That's why they aren't fighting Grindelwald," Hermione replies. "At least not very much."

"Fudge doesn’t fight Grindelwald because Fudge doesn’t like to fight," Sirius replies bitterly. He's never liked Fudge. "Fudge doesn’t fight because he'll always avoid a fight when he can."

"I can understand that, but ignoring Riddle's return takes avoiding fights to a whole other level."

"I don't think that's what he's doing," Sirius replies. "I think he's convinced himself that Dumbledore's made the whole thing up in order to somehow take control of the Ministry."

They only need to talk for a few moments longer before they see where the light was coming from. At the end of the cave there's a large wooden desk where a male vampire is seated behind, with two torches behind him, with the closed doors of an elevator in between the torches. The vampire is starring ahead with a bored expression, the universal look of an overworked desk worker. He looks up and leans his chin on his palm.

"Names and purpose for visiting the Ministry," The man says in a dull tone.

"Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black," Dumbledore says quietly. "We have a meeting with Minister Fudge."

"Oh," The man blinks. "Welcome back, Professor…and the human-born? Who does she belong to?"

"I'm her creator."

"Very well," The man takes out a tag and writes on it _property of Albus Dumbledore_ and hands it to Dumbledore, who gives it to Hermione without turning to look at her. Hermione takes a deep breath and pins it on her shirt. Sirius is impressed. He probably would have torn the man's heart out, and maybe Dumbledore's too. But then again, he was never one for self-control, and if there's one thing Hermione is, is under control.

The man turns to Sirius and frowns, "Um, would you like to leave the food with me?"

"No," Sirius says immediately. "We're taking her with us."

The Ministry worker shrugs, uninterested either way, "As you will, sir."

"Thank you," Dumbledore says quietly, and grabs Sirius, pulling him along, past the man and into the elevator beyond. They ride for a few moments in silence, and then, after a _ding_ , the doors open and they're in the main hall of the Ministry.

***

White. That was the first impression Hermione gets of the main hall. The walls are white, and so is the ceiling. The floor is one huge mirror, and since there are only vampires walking around, the only thing to be seen on the floor is the ceiling and a few papers and books flying through the air. As they walk out of the elevator, Susan suddenly appears on the mirrored-floor, hovering in the air. The child looks at herself in the mirror and laughs out loud.

The elevator they came down on is only one of many elevators that keep opening up and depositing vampires into the main hall. All the vampires seem to know exactly where they're going, walking down the hall to the long line of corridors. It's rather overwhelming, all of those vampires. It's hard to make out any of the separate scents. As soon as Dumbledore walks into the main hall, people stare at him, whispering to each other as he walks by. Sirius puts a hand on the small of Hermione's back and leads her forward. Hermione is glad to accept the comfort.

In the middle of the hallway, Hermione stops in her tracks. In front of her is a large ornate statue, around four times her height. It shows a female and male vampire, beautiful and proud, looking up at the ceiling together, hands intertwined. Around them are the figures of a goblin, a werewolf and a few creatures all looking up at the vampires with awe.

 _Where are the humans?_ Hermione thinks. She turns to Sirius to ask, but he shakes his head slightly and she swallows, remembering. No speaking. It seems that Dumbledore can guess what she's thinking, as he comes up to her and says, "Humans are not even worth a mention in the statue. Come on, let's go-"

"Dumbledore."

Hermione turns and nearly jumps when she sees Rosier coming towards them. The Frenchwoman is one of Grindelwald's…second-in-command? Main advisers? Lackeys? Lackeys. That sounds about right.

"Vinda," Dumbledore says calmly, though Hermione can see that he's surprised to see her in the Ministry. "It's good to see you."

"Hmm," Rosier looks at a vampire who's stopped in his tracks to stare at Dumbledore. "Can we help you?"

The vampire jumps and walks away. Dumbledore sighs, rubbing his eyes and walking towards Rosier. "May I ask what you're doing here, Vinda?"

Rosier gives him a cold look, "I was sent."

"You don't sound pleased by that."

Rosier sneers at him, "I'm not a messenger."

"Of course," Sirius says with a grin. "What's the message you were sent to give?"

If looks could kill…

"What does Gellert want, Vinda?" Dumbledore asks quietly.

Rosier puts her hands in her pockets and tilts her head. She's looking at Dumbledore with hate in her eyes.

"He wishes you good luck with talking to Fudge, but doesn’t think it will do any good," Rosier says dryly. "He also said something else, but I will not be repeating it."

Hermione blushes deeply, and looks down, hearing Dumbledore sigh.

"I'll tell him not to give you messages for me from now on, Vinda," He says.

"I don’t need anything from you, Dumbledore," Rosier snaps, eyes narrowing. "I'll be leaving now."

"Or," Dumbledore calls as Rosier starts walking away. "You can stay, and listen."

Rosier stops.

***

Percy Weasley rushes over as Albus comes up to the entrance chamber to the Minister's rooms. His red hair is spiking out all around him, and he quickly pushes it into place. Albus suppresses a smile. Percy always cared far too much for appearances.

"Professor," He says hurriedly, and very quietly. Albus can feel Vinda and Sirius's eyes on him and Percy, going back and forth. But not Hermione's. One quick look at her shows Dumbledore that she's observing the room, the lines of portraits on the walls, the former Ministers with golden plaques showing their names and the time they spent in office. _Read closely_ , he urges her wordlessly. _See how long Fudge has been in office, realize how much he must love power and how afraid he is of losing it_.

"Percy," Dumbledore nods at him.

Percy scratches his nose, walking closer and clearing his throat. "Professor, I think perhaps you should return on a different time. The Minister is not in the best of moods."

"Unfortunately, Percy, that can be said about the Minister quite often," Albus replies dryly, and is slightly amused and slightly concerned to see the resentment flickering in Percy's eyes. Percy was getting to attached to the Minister. He needs to get him out of here before that worsens.

"I don’t think-" Percy begins, but Albus interrupts him.

"It will be all right, Percy," He says. "I've been dealing with Fudge for hundreds of years now, I can handle his sulking. Sirius, why don't we go in. There's no reason why we all need to go in." _It might intimidate him, and when he's intimidated he closes off_.

Her gives both Rosier and Hermione a look, to Hermione the look says, _keep your eyes open_ , and to Vinda the looks says, _just don’t start a war with the Ministry, please?_ Hermione nods at him, while Vinda scowls.

 _Good enough_ , Albus sighs inwardly and follows Percy to Cornelius Fudge's office.

***

Hermione stands in front of the portrait of Artemisia Lufkin, the first female Minister and Fudge's predecessor. _She looks exactly like the evil step-mother from Cinderella_ , Hermione finds herself thinking. Suddenly she feels a shiver go through her, and she turns her head around to see Rosier has come to stand besides her. Hermione sighs and turns around.

" I was given a message for you as well, mudblood," The vampire murmurs right into Hermione's ear. She has to repress an urge to push Rosier away.

"Is that so?" Hermione replies dryly. "You know, for someone who's not a messenger, you do seem to be passing on quite a few messages."

Rosier doesn't reply to that, but Hermione can see her jaw clenching. Then she says, "Grindelwald can find the Malfoy boy for you."

Hermione's heart misses a beat, and she has to brace herself against the wall for support.

"How?" She says quietly.

Rosier looks at her like she's an idiot, "He's a _Seer_."

Right. Hermione shakes her head. The _how_ is quite obvious, now that it's been so helpfully spilled out for her. The real question isn't how, it's…

"Why?" Hermione demands. "Why would he do that?"

Rosier shrugs, "Why not?"

Hermione turns to the other vampire, crossing her arms, "Don't play games with me. Tell me what he expects in return for this kind deed."

"Nothing that he told me about," Rosier replies dryly. The words, _she's lying_ , flash through Hermione's mind.

"So, just a favor to be cashed in on a later date," It's tempting, to agree, not knowing what the price is. She misses Draco, she wants to know where he is, if he's safe. But she doesn't trust Grindelwald, Grindelwald with his amused eyes and smirk, Grindelwald who watches everyone the way most people watch ants, Grindelwald with his love of collecting people.

"I don’t believe for a moment that Grindelwald doesn’t have anything he wants from me, and I think you know-"

"He wants you to keep an eye on Dumbledore." Rosier snaps.

"Ah," Hermione scratches her nose. She understands why Rosier spits out the information like it's acid. Her hatred of Dumbledore is sizzling off her, the anger that so much of her _master's_ energy and attention is directed towards Hermione's creator. "He wants me to spy on Dumbledore."

Rosier smiles softly, "I take it that's a no."

Hermione shakes her head, baffled, "Grindelwald doesn't trust Dumbledore?"

"Does Dumbledore trust Grindelwald?" Rosier raises an eyebrow.

"I hope not," Hermione replies, dryly.

Rosier leans against the wall, "So, what do you say?"

Hermione shakes her head, "No. I can't."

It's hard, turning it down, but she knows it's the only thing she can do. She will give Grindelwald no leverage over her.

***

Cornelius Fudge stays seated on his antique leather chair when Sirius walks in after Dumbledore. Sirius supposes he's trying to look imposing and in control. The Minister wouldn't get up for anyone, not even the great Albus Dumbledore. In reality, he just looks slumped down and rather unimpressive.

"Cornelius," Dumbledore walks over to the desk. Fudge scrambles to stand up and grasps Dumbledore's outstretched hand. "How are you?"

"Well, well," Fudge blinks at Sirius. "Who's that?"

"What do you mean, Minister? We've met before," Sirius says dryly.

Fudge gives him a hard look, "Who's the human?"

"A survivor of the Death Eaters," Dumbledore says calmly.

Fudge freezes, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now, Dumbledore-"

"I want you to let us speak in the High Court."

"Absolutely not," Fudge shakes his head.

"That's your decision, Cornelius," Dumbledore says calmly. "But I should tell you that Grindelwald is aware of this situation and has made it quite clear that if my request of you is answered in the negative he will-"

"Is that a _threat_?!" Fudge's eyes bulge out of his sockets.

"If you'd let me finish?" Dumbledore raises an eyebrow. It's the exact expression he uses to wear when a student was having a temper tantrum in class. Patience mixed with exasperation and just a bit of disappointment. "I'm not attempting to threaten you, simply to inform you. If you do not allow me to speak in front of the High Court Grindelwald intends to…spread the news of your decision. And I'm sure you do not want that kind of publicity."

"Why not?" Fudge demands. "Our citizens would understand why I didn’t want a crazed man like you speaking in front of the High Cour!"

"Perhaps many of them won’t," Dumbledore shrugs. "Perhaps some will wonder why you're so afraid to let people with differing opinions talk in front of the Court. But as I said, Cornelius, you're the Minister, it's your choice."

Sirius knew they had won before Fudge opens his mouth and says, "The High Court is meeting in a week, you can speak then. Only for a few minutes, Dumbledore, and if you try anything-"

"Excellent, I'll see you then," Dumbledore says briskly. "Come on then, Sirius."

***

Hermione clutches the book in her hands, hard enough to tear the pages under her fingers. _What is he doing here?_ She can smell him, coming closer and closer. Hermione looks up as the door to the library opens and Grindelwald walks in. He's dressed in a long black coat that's tailored perfectly to his lean and fit body, and a baseball hat that makes him look like a University student. Hermione bites her lip as Grindelwald walks right up to the round table she's sitting around.

"What are you reading, young one?" He says purringly. Hermione wonders what Dumbledore thinks of him flirting with her. Or _is_ he flirting? Maybe playing with her the way a cat plays with a mouse?

Hermione sighs and pushes the book away from her, "You made me rip the book up."

Grindelwald looks down at the book and rolls his eyes, "Would you like me to pay for it?"

"What do you want, Grindelwald?" Hermione asks quietly.

Grindelwald raises an eyebrow, "No small-talk, then?" He shrugs and sits down in front of Hermione, and she pushes herself backwards instinctively. "I wanted to know why you turned down my proposition."

"I'm not going to spy on Dumbledore," Hermione snaps, and her eyes narrow. "Why do you want someone to spy on Dumbledore? I thought you and him-"

"Don’t make the mistake of thinking you understand the relationship between your creator and I, because you don't."

 _Run!_ A deep and feral part of her screams to her at the sight of the ice in the mismatched eyes looking at her calmly. How can someone look both icy and entirely calm and controlled at the same time? She has to brace her hands on the wooden table to stop herself from getting up and running.

"And I didn’t want a spy," Grindelwald continues. Hermione looks down at the table, not wanting to look Grindelwald in the eyes. "I wanted to see what you would do."

"So, it was a test," Hermione mumbles. She'd feel angry if she wasn't so scared.

"Yes, exactly," Grindelwald replies with a sly grin.

Hermione sighs and rubs her eyes, "Dumbledore warned me about you."

"I'm sure he did," Grindelwald is smiling, she can hear it in your voice. "He's always been very protective of his creations."

Hermione flickers her eyes up, "Just tell what it is you want, please?"

Grindelwald shrugs, "It's rather simple, actually. I'm worried about Al and I wanted to get a sense of you, of what your priorities are."

"You wanted to see if I'd chose Draco over Dumbledore?" Hermione shakes her head. "Is that really it?"

"That's really it." She doesn't know if she can believe him or not. He's not exactly an easy person to read.

"If that's all that you wanted, you didn't need to come talk to me, you already got your answer," Hermione says quietly.

"I just wanted to see you, again, I find you interesting," Grindelwald says with a shrug, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. "You're also quite beautiful."

Hermione shivers, which Grindelwald seems to find amusing, as he lets out a creepy little laughter and adds, "Don’t worry, young one, I have no interest in you in _that_ regard. I enjoy having beautiful things around me, that's all. I'm sure you've noticed that quite a few of my people are rather attractive-"

"Like decorations?" Hermione finds herself saying with a sneer.

Grindelwald laughs again, "You're amusing, young one. Well, this was very entertaining, but I must go-"

"To see Dumbledore?" Hermione finds herself asking.

Grindelwald hesitates and then says, "To see Dumbledore, yes. You'd also go to him, if he were the Malfoy boy."

Hermione swallows and turns away from him.

"Hmm, you know, I might find the boy just to see how both of you would react to seeing each other again."

***

He wakes up near evening, his eyes blinking and stretches like a cat on the hotel bed. He turns around to see Al's sleeping face besides him. He smiles to himself and observes his lover. Albus looks more relaxed in his sleep then he's seen him for a very long time. His arms are sprawled out across his bare chest and his hair is tussled and messy. He's beautiful, and _his_. Al belongs to no one else. He's the one thing in the world that is undeniably Gellert's.

Gellert crawls over to Albus and climbs on his lap. Albus mumbles and his eyes flicker half open. He frowns at Gellert, sleep muddling his mind.

"Welcome back, love," Gellert grins and runs his fingers through Albus's hair. Al groans lightly.

"What time is it?" He mumbles.

"Nearly six," Gellert replies. "Why, are you in any rush to get somewhere?"

"I should be, I should go," Albus rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and he's so sweet looking that Gellert has to lean down and kiss him hard on the mouth. Al's hands go up and caress Gellert's thighs.

"Not yet."

"Have you tried to find Riddle again?"

Gellert groans, becaseu that's a marvelous way to ruin the mood, and says, "Yes. And his people. Still being blocked."

"Do you have any idea what's blocking you?"

"They're all wearing vials of blood from the Blue Goddess."

"What?" Albus frowns at him. "I thought you destroyed all of those."

"I did," The golden vials supposedly hold blood from the Blue Goddess, the patron of Seers. At least, that's what many vampires believe. In truth it's simply a potion that Gellert invented hundreds of years earlier. "He found a way to recreate it." Gellert doesn't like that.

Albus sighs, "That would be Severus, he's incredibly talented with potions."

"Then I need to kill him, I can't have anyone able to recreate what I did, it's annoying."

Albus frowns at him and then says, "I need to go."

"I'll let you go as soon as you get me off one last time," Gellert promises, but Albus snorts against his chest and pushes Gellert on the bed, so that Albus is on top of him.

Albus looks at him with a tilted head, smiles fondly down at him and then says, "Why did you come to London, Gellert? I don't need your help with Fudge."

"Oh, love, I didn't come for the Ministry," Gellert puts a finger on Albus's nose, the nose that he had broken so many times, during fights, during lovemaking, just when he felt like it. "I just wanted to see you."

Al rolls his eyes, his pretty blue eyes and pushes himself off the bed, "We saw each other a few days ago."

"Are you complaining that I came?" Gellert raises his eyebrow. "You seemed quite pleased earlier."

Albus turns to look at him, stopping in the middle of pulling his pants up, and he says, "I didn't complain."

"Al," Gellert moves forward and grabs Albus's wrist. The other vampire looks down at his trapped body part and then back up. "Why do you do this? Why do you feel the need to constantly deny to yourself that love me, that you need me?"

He feels like they've had this conversation before, because of course they have. They've repeated this discussion time and time again.

The answer comes quickly, and calmly, "Because I shouldn't. Because if you were anybody else, I would probably spend my time hunting you down. Because you've killed people for disagreeing with you, because you've enslaved a whole population just because of some misconceptions and an application of Nazi philosophy. Because of that."

"Oh, love," Gellert starts, but he's stopped by Al placing a warm palm over his mouth.

"It's all right, we're all right," Albus says gently, as if soothing a little child, then smiles, an open, wide smile. "Thank you for coming to London."

It doesn’t happen often, but once in a while Gellert can be rendered speechless. He feels his heart beating a bit faster as he pulls Albus close to him. He'll let him get back to his intelligent mudblood and his responsibilities, but not just yet.

***

There is something incredibly unnerving in waiting if you don’t know how long you will have to wait. Hermione enjoys it when things are tidy, in control. When she could, if she wanted to, make a timetable for her day.

(And she does, sometimes, actually make timetables, though not as often as Harry and Ginny like to make it sound.)

Hermione is capable of being spontaneous when she needs to. She just doesn’t _like_ it. She likes order, and knowing what is going on at all times.

Which is why she's finding the current situation rather uncomfortable.

They're waiting in front of two almost comically large stone doors, which lead to the High Court. They've been waiting for nearly three hours, long enough for Susan to take a nap and wake up again, and long enough for Hermione to get nervous, calm down, and get nervous again.

She fidgets on the long stone bench and feels a warm hand test on her shoulder. She looks up to see Dumbledore looing down at her intently.

"They're making us wait to get us nervous, and unfocused," He tells her, and she's allowed to answer, because it's him talking to her, her _creator_.

"I know," Hermione drops her eyes to the floor and forces herself to stop fidgeting.

"Hermione," She looks back up to see Dumbledore's eyes narrowing at her. "What's wrong? you've been acting odd all week."

"Nothing," Hermione says automatically, because really, what is she supposed to say to that? _Oh, your lover, who is quite creepy by the way, came to see me and it was incredibly unsettling and also rather terrifying?_

"Hermione…" Dumbledore says with a sigh, and seems like he's about to launch into a speech about _trust_ and _communication_ , but he's interrupted by the creaking open of the stone doors and Hermione doesn't think she's ever seen such perfect timing in her life.

Dumbledore sighs again, as if he doesn’t quite agree with Hermione's relief that their conversation is over and turns to her, "Eyes open. I'll wait to hear your thoughts afterwards."

She remembers what Dumbledore told her earlier about the Court: _as the plaintiff, I'll speak first, and then the judges will have the chance to ask questions. That's the part that can go on for some time, since each is allowed to ask as many questions as they want and there are a hundred and twenty judges._

Hermione nods and follows Dumbledore and Sirius into the High Court.

Her first thought is, _that's big_. It's not the most eloquent response, perhaps, but it's what pops to her mind. As they walk, she can hear the echo of their steps, and the chamber is large enough for gusts of wind to sweep past her. The ceiling is around ten meters high, a black dome that looms over them. The grey spikes sticking out of the ceiling down at them causes Hermione's stomach to make summer saults, because she's almost a hundred percent sure that they're Damascus steel.

Hermione forces her eyes away from the ceiling as Dumbledore's melodic tones take over the space, and looks around.

They're standing in the middle of the huge chamber, on the checkered, uneven floor. _To make it uncomfortable for standing on,_ she thinks. To their left and right are large black stands that are entirely empty except for one figure. Hermione should not be as surprised as she is to see Grindelwald's disturbingly relaxed figure.

He's stretched out on the black (everything seems to be black in this chamber) stands, his golden hair standing out the way an albino lion would stand out in the African wilderness, and he's watching the High Court judges the same way, like a predator, a unique predator, a one of a kind predator who does not need to hide, that does not camouflage to be victorious in the hunt. He's looking at them like a lion observing a pack of zebras, turning breathing, living things into nothing more then nourishment for a superior being.

It's incredibly unsettling, and Hermione turns her gaze from him to the High Court judges before Grindelwald notices her presence.

The judges' stands are the part of the room that seem the most excessive to Hermione. First of all, they are so tall. They tower over her, around four meters in the air, peering down from their black (of course fucking black) individual seats, with two men and two women sitting above the rest, behind a table. These four are the only ones that have some color in their dress. All the judges wear long black robes, but the four behind the table have hates in different colors: the colors of the Four Gods. She knows why they're positioned like that. It would make most people feel very small in comparison to the tall judges.

Well, that will definitely not work on Dumbledore.

Suddenly Hermione frown, realizing that the chamber has gotten entirely quiet. She turns to see Dumb ledore has stopped talking and is looking up at the judges with a half-raised eye brow, waiting for them to ask their question.

"Thank you, Professor. Does anybody have any questions for the Professor?" The woman speaking was one of those on the table, the one with the Ravenclaw hat. Besides her, Fudge (in Gryffindor red) is looking at Dumbledore with narrow eyes.

"I have a question," A high, girlish voice asks. Hermione turns to where the voice comes from and she finds herself starring, because she's never seen a woman who looked like a _toad_ before. The toad-woman's eyes flip to Hermione, who looks back. Is this human-born yours?"

Hermione grits her teeth but keeps her eyes on the woman, who's smiling at her with the most poisonous smile she's ever seen.

"I cheated her, yes," Dumbledore says calmly.

"How interesting," The woman leans forward, eyes gleaming. "You haven't created a human-born since Riddle."

 _What?_ Hermione gasps (she can't stop herself) and looks at Dumbledore. He's looking passively at the woman, as though he's found her question somewhat boring and uninterested.

"She is," Dumbledore replies. "Was that your only question, Dolores?"

"Oh, I've got another one," The woman replies. "I suppose most of us are thinking this…why should we believe anything you say about Voldemort when you've made quite a few mistakes with Voldemort already?"

_What mistakes has he made?_

Dumbledore just shrugs nonchalantly, "None as big as the mistake you would make, Dolores, if you allow the vampires who murdered this little girl's family get away without punishment."

The woman giggles lightly at that, but Hermione can see a few judges squirming uncomfortably. Susan's wide-eyed innocence seems to affect some of them. She notices, from the corner of her eye, that Grindelwald has leaned forward on his seat, his eyes turned to Dumbledore with an intensity that makes Hermione blush, though she doesn't quite know why, and she turns back to the judges. Her eyes catch the movement of one of them, a pale man with long black hair and a goatee, whispers something in the ear of one of the other judges. The other judge jerks away and her eyes widen. Hermione watches that with interest.

"You could have killed those humans yourself, for this exact purpose," Fudge snaps. Hermione keeps looking at the black-haired man, who's leaning into the woman in front of him, and whispers something in her ear.

"Hmm," Dumbledore says, and Hermione turns to see him put a hand into his pocket and took something out, throwing it on the floor. It's the wooden symbol the Death Eaters left on Susan's family home. There's a moment of stunned silence and then people start murmuring and whispering to each other. Hermione looks to Grindelwald, and sees him leaning backwards on his seat again, a mouth slightly upturned, smirking slightly.

"You could have carved that on your own," Fudge replies.

The woman who had talked first turns to Fudge and says, "Tina Goldstein came to speak to me, yesterday. Her account is exactly the same as Dumbledore's now."

The murmuring begins again, and then the questions continue. Hermione keeps looking, back and forth as the judges talk and talk and talk. Three hours pass, and eventually the woman says, "Shall we put it to a vote?"


	5. Reunions

_I was delighted to see you again, and forgot for the moment that all happiness is fleeting_

_-Alexandre Dumas_

"We lost."

Albus and Hermione turn to look at Sirius. The man's eyes are flickering with anger as he stomps around the apartment. Albus sits down on the sofa, and Susan crawls up to him and puts a hand on his knee.

"Alb?" Susan blinks at him. Albus sighs and puts a hand on the girl's head.

"Everything's all right, sweetheart," He tells her calmly. She grins at him and snuggles close to his side. Albus looks down at her, her long brown hair spilling around her. It makes him think of Ariana at that age, how she would do the same, curling against him above the clothes. Always above the clothes, to keep warm. He rubs Susan's back. _We'll take you back now_ , he mentally tells her. _Back to where they don't treat you like food_.

"I can't believe we fucking lost," Sirius rubs his hair, groaning. "All this, for _nothing_."

"Not nothing," Hermione says quietly. Albus turns to see her, where she's sitting on the window still, curled into herself. Albus sits straighter. Susan makes a little sound of complaint but just adjusts herself to get comfortable again.

"What did you see?" He asks.

"During the talks, there was one vampire who talked to the others, and I don’t know what he said, but whatever it was, it scared them, and then all of those vampires voted against acknowledging Riddle's return."

Now _that_ is interesting.

"Tell me what he looked like," He asks Hermione.

"Black hair, long frame, weird goatee, squirmy."

"That sounds like Pius Thicknesse," Sirius replies, eyes narrowing. "He's not…I mean, of all the people who might be Death Eaters I can't say I ever suspected Thicknesse."

"I would be very surprised if he is," Albus replies. "But this is interesting, very interesting. I'm going to talk to Pius."

"You two go do that," Sirius replies and comes over to take Susan. "I'm taking Susan back home."

"Now?" Hermione frowns. "Can't you wait a bit?"

Sirius picks Susan up and says, "You can come with us, if you like."

"I'm going to stay with the Professor," Hermione replies dryly. Albus frowns at the coldness in her eyes. Sirius looks between the two of them, shakes his head and walks out. A few moments later Albus hears the revving of a car and Sirius and Susan's smell fades away.

"Hermione-" Albus begins, but is cut off.

"I thought Tom Riddle is a half-blood."

Albus sighs and leans against the sofa, "He is."

"Then why did that woman say that he was the last human-born vampire you created?" There is hurt in her eyes, anger and disappointment. _She didn't know I had turned any other humans_ , Albus realizes with a start. And why would she? He had turned so few over his long years, and she's the only one of them left alive.

"Umbridge wasn't talking about Tom Riddle Junior, she was talking about Tom Riddle Senior, his father. He was a human, and I turned him."

"Why?"

"Why?" Albus lets out a bitter laughter. "It was a dreadful miscalculation. I thought it would help Tom stay on the right path, if he had his father with him."

_Because I thought, if Tom had his father to hate for all eternity, he wouldn't need to have everyone else. And because his father deserved that punishment, of being haunted by his own son, for abandoning the pregnant woman carrying his child all those years before. Because I hated him too, for what he had done to that boy, that boy who could have been so great._

But those reasons are his alone, Hermione doesn’t need to hear them.

The young woman looks at him for a moment and then says, "You should have told me that."

He knows that voice, the disenchantment, the coldness entering the eyes. He's seen it before, in the eyes of a handsome young man with black hair and deep eyes, who had caught him a choke hold and tried to hide the fact that he was crying.

Fear starts to squirm uncomfortably in his stomach. He will _not_ lose another one, another brilliant and curious child, because of hidden secrets. Without planning to, he jumps up and rushes over to Hermione, wrapping her arms around her. Hermione hesitates against him for a moment before her hands go up to his shoulders in return.

"I was wrong, earlier," Hermione says. "When I said that I've never met any vampire who thinks of me as an object. I had, I met Grindelwald's people. I forgot about them, because they don't act like that, mostly. They keep their opinions to themselves because Grindelwald tells them to, and Grindelwald tells them to do that because he knows you wouldn't let him treat us that way."

Albus frowns. It's all true, but he's not sure what Hermione wants him to say to that.

It seems that she doesn’t want him to say anything quite yet, as she keeps talking.

"I wonder that we let you get away with it, being with him. If it were anyone else I doubt they would be able to. But no one even talks about it, no one wants to exam it closely. I don't think you understand, how safer we feel when you're around. Everything relaxes, everything slows down. People think less, they let you do that for them."

"Hermione," Albus says without thinking. "Please don't leave."

"I won't leave," Hermione replies. "But…don't do it, don't lie to me again."

 _I don’t deserve that_ , Albus thinks as he wraps her in another hug _. I don’t deserve her trust and love. What I deserve is his hate._

***

Teddy's head perks up and he grins. Ginny, sniffing the air as well, recognizes the familiar scent and opens her mouth to say something to Teddy. But before she can, the child bolts out of the room.

"Teddy, wait!" Ginny rushes out in panic, catching up with Teddy in the living room, where he's looking around wildly, eyes wide with disappointment. His lower lip starts to shiver.

"Where is he?" Teddy looks at her.

"Oh, Teddy," Ginny leans down next to him and says sternly. "What first, _smell_ or _see_?"

"Smell," Teddy replies immediately.

"Right, so you can smell your daddy, and you'll see him soon," Ginny says. "And he's getting closer, you smell that?" She taps her nose, and Teddy copies her movement.

"Yes!" Teddy jumps into the air. "I smell his stronger now."

"And stronger…"

"And stronger!" Teddy laughs and turns around. The door behind them opens and Sirius's voice booms out.

"Teddy!"

"Daddy! Susan!" Teddy laughs and rushes over to his father, who puts Susan down and opens his arms to pick Teddy up.

"Oh, I missed you, little man," Sirius laughs as Ginny motions Susan over and picks her up, kissing the little girl on the top of the head. Susan recuperates by patting her nose and then making the disgruntled face Ginny has come to associate with things being too cold for her. "How have you been? Did you behave yourself?"

"Yes!"

"Did he really?" Sirius turns to Ginny with a grin that tells her he knows perfectly well what the answer to that question will be.

"Um," Ginny turns to Teddy. "Why don't we show your Daddy what you did?"

"What did you do?" Sirius asks immediately.

"Come, I'll show you," Ginny waves Sirius over. Sirius sighs, and follows Ginny up the stairs to Harry and Charlie's bedroom (well, mostly just Harry's since Charlie spent most of his time in Romania lately, where he worked in an archeological dig of dragons), and Sirius stares at the ceiling while Teddy grins in pride.

"Are…are those slinkys?" Sirius blinks.

"Yep," Teddy grins.

"How many are there?"

"Well, Harry bought Teddy fifty of them, so I assume fifty," Ginny says dryly. "And don’t ask me how he managed to sling them from the ceiling, we couldn't get it out of him."

Sirius looks down at Teddy and suddenly smiles and laughs loudly, "Oh, Teddy, I can't even be mad, this is magnificent!"

"Sirius!" Ginny protests, or at least tries to, because it's hard to keep a smile of her face, since that was basically her reaction as well when she saw Teddy's masterpiece. Also James's, with Harry remaining the only mature one among them, and that was probably just because it was _his_ room that was slinkyed. He was the only one who didn't give Teddy a very enthusiastic high five for his efforts.

"Thank you," Teddy says modestly.

"It is wonderful, but you _will_ have to take all these slinkys down and apologize to Harry," Sirius says, smile still plastered on his face.

Teddy's disappears.

***

Pius Thicknesse knew it couldn't last. He knew someone would figure it out, eventually. He had told himself, over and over, that it wasn't worth it, that he needed to stop. But it hard to stop something like this once you started. He very much doubts that they would just have allowed him to do so, shaken his head politely and left him alone. So, he was stuck, or so he had at least told himself.

He had been expecting it, for someone to come to his house in the middle of the night and wait for him. He always planned to stand his ground when that happened, to fight to his last breath. But still, when it happens, when he approachs his house in the outskirts of London, and smells the scent of two vampires in his house, he bolts. Because he recognizes that smell.

And he can't bring himself to face Albus Dumbledore.

Thicknesse turns and runs, a small part of his mind telling him there's no point, that he can't outrun Albus Fucking Dumbledore, but the rest of his mind is to taken over by fear and he can't stop. The smell comes closer and closer, and Thicknesse tries to run faster, but there's no use. His hand is caught so strongly his wrist snaps out of place and he falls to the ground, letting out a high shriek.

"Pius," Dumbledore lets go of his mangled arm, and he cradles it to his chest. His old teacher ( _everyone's_ old teacher, it seemed sometimes) stands over him, tilting his head and looking down at him with a sad expression. "It's good to see you again."

Pius whimpers pathetically and tries to crawl away from Dumbledore. But his progress is blocked by a sharp boat kicking him in the back. He looks back to see the second vampire, a young-looking female who's looking at him with an unimpressed look.

"This is him, Hermione, yes?"

"This is him, this is the man."

Dumbledore nods and leans down next to Pius, "Tell me when you sold yourself to the Death Eaters."

"No, no, I didn't!" Pius shakes his head, frantic. Oh, Gods, he was in trouble, Dumbledore was going to kill him now. He heard stories of Dumbledore, how he had taken out multiple trolls single handed, how he had fought off an entire human army when he was still no older than a teen, decapitating nearly a thousand humans during a single night and lining the heads out in front of their leader's castle, fueled by the blood of his own Squid sister. The stories hadn't seemed believable when Dumbledore was teaching in Hogwarts, when his voice was soft and his eyes sparkling with amusement as he looked at his students fondly. But now, with Dumbledore over him, radiating power and danger, now he can believe it without problem.

"You didn’t? Then why would you sabotage our proposition at the High Court yesterday?" Dumbledore folds his arms, one eyebrow raising up.

Pius feels his heart skip a beat. He shakes his head frantically, "I didn't…I don’t…I don’t want him to win…"

He's babbling, he knows it, but it's hard to think with those blue eyes burrowing into his soul.

"I believe you," Dumbledore says, voice suddenly soft and gentle. "But I need you to tell me what happened."

Pius swallows.

"What did they threaten you with?" The woman asks quietly.

"Hermione, I appreciate your optimism, but Pius here wasn't threatened. He was bribed."

He winces.

"Oh," The girl-Hermione- looks pitilessly at him. "Money? Power?"

"Dumbledore-" Pius starts, but Dumbledore raises his hand to stop him.

"I would guess money, knowing you," Dumbledore says dryly. "But I suppose you used threats against the other judges? Intimidation of your fellow judges would get you three hundred years in prison."

"You're…you're just going to bring me in?"

"Of course not," Dumbledore says dryly. "You will surrender yourself, unless you want me to cause you a world of hurt. But first you're going to tell me where you meet them."

***

"Sir…" Hermione swallows. "What-"

"Hush, Hermione," Dumbledore raises a finger to her, turning back to Thickenesse. The look in his eyes is cold and hard, looking exactly like Grindelwald did when he came to see her in the library. She doesn’t like seeing that look on Dumbledore's face.

 _He must have learned it from Grindelwald_ , Hermione thinks. Then a small, nagging little part of her whispers, _or Grindelwald learned it from Dumbledore_.

"Where do you meet them?" Dumbledore asks, and the man on the ground shivers. He's _terrified._

"In a house-"

"Give me the address."

"Sir," Hermione says quietly. "You're sc-"

"Address, Pius, now."

Hermione didn’t listen to the address, her ears were full of a strange screeching noise, as though she didn't want to hear anything else.

"…tomorrow, you'll go to Fudge and tell him everything. But not tonight, am I clear?"

"Y-y-yes."

"Good," Dumbledore's voice remains icy and composed, while his eyes blaze with a terrifying fire. He looks up at Hermione, the fire still in place. Hermione takes a step backwards, instinctively. Suddenly the fire disappears and concern appears instead of it. "Hermione? What's wrong?"

"I…need to go," Hermione mumbles, and steps away.

***

"Who is this?"

"It's me."

"Oh, Al, my love. If you need comforting for losing at the Ministry, you're welcome to come to the hotel-"

"I have an address, where the Death Eaters might be."

"Really? That is interesting."

"Would you like to come with me?"

"Oh? What happened, your little girl not interested-"

"Gellert."

"Touchy, touchy…."

" _Gellert_."

"Give me the address, love, I'll meet you there."

***

It's late at night when Hermione walks into the church. The Reverend is sweeping the floor while humming a psalm. He's an older looking pale male with a walrus moustache and white hair. He looks up when Hermione comes in and smiles at her.

"Hello, my daughter."

Hermione hesitates, almost turning around and walking out of the church, but she stops herself and stays in place, "I'm sorry for coming in so late, Father."

The Reverend leans on his broom and gives her a searching look before saying, "How long has it been?"

Hermione shrugs.

"A while?" He prompts.

Around ten years. The last time she had been in the church she had leveled it to the ground while fighting a troll. She's quite sure it doesn’t count.

Hermione nods, shoving her hands in her pockets, "Quite a while."

"There's nothing wrong with that," The Reverend replies and puts his broom down. "Would you like to sit?"

"Yeah, sure," Hermione replies and shuffles forward. The Reverend sits down on one of the pews and Hermione, hesitantly, sits besides him. She puts her hands on the pew ahead of her and looks at the cross in front of her.

"May I ask your name, my child?"

"Jean," Hermione replies, because that's her first name, the name her mother gave her, the name she's always hated and hasn't used since she left her home, a name she's kept clean from everything that's happened in her life since then. She shivers slightly and looks away from the cross. "I don't think I should be here. I've done a lot of very bad things."

"We all have things we regret, but God forgives all, when we repent and ask for His forgiveness," The Reverend has a melodic and pleasant voice, but it doesn’t nothing to calm Hermione down.

"You don't think that there are some things beyond forgiveness?"

"Not a thing."

Hermione sighs, placing her forehead on the pew, "I don't know if I believe that anymore."

"But you used to," The Reverend says astutely. "What changed?"

"My whole life," Hermione replies bitterly. "I…haven't been living among believers for a while now."

"That shouldn't effect your own belief."

"That's not it," Hermione shakes her head. "It's not that they tried to change my believes, it's just simpler to believe what they believe." She sighs deeply and looks up at the cross. She smiles gently. "But it's nice, to be back."

"You're welcome to return anytime you want, my child."

"Hopefully I'll be leaving London soon, but I appreciate it, Father," Hermione says and gets up slowly.

The Reverend follows her and puts a hand on her wrist, which causes him to shiver slightly.

"You're very cold," He points out, and narrows his eyes. Suddenly there's a chill in between them. He realized it, the difficult to pin-point inhuman quality to Hermione, and his hand moves to his cross. She is no longer welcome in his church.

"I'll be leaving now, Reverend," Hermione says softly, and tugs her wrist free. She turns away from the Reverend, feeling his cold glare on her, and leaves.

***

Gellert meets Al a few blocks away from the address he gave him. He finds Al leaning against a nightlamp, one hand in his pocket, the other swinging back and forth. He turns as Gellert approaches and watches him.

"Here, take this," Al says in leu of a greeting and rakes out a golden locket. "Garlic."

"Yes, I can smell it, "Gellert replies as he takes the locket, placing it in his coat pocket. He looks up at Al, noticing the worry in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Albus shrugs, the concern deepening in his eyes, "I was just…thinking…what if he's there, Gellert?"

Gellert sighs, rubbing his eyes, "He's not going to be there. He's not stupid enough to be in the same city as the Ministry."

"You're probably right…"

"Not _probably_ , I am. Just listen to me. He won’t be there, and if he is, we'll just kill him."

Albus jerks slightly. Gellert clicks his tongue.

"I kill him," Al says. "Only I kill him. You promised, Gellert."

Gellert sighs.

" _Gellert_."

"I won't kill Riddle," He says, and when Al keeps glaring at him he raises his hands in surrender. "Whenever we find Riddle, I promise to let you kill him. Now, can we go?"

"After you, then," Albus says dryly, and motions Gellert forward. Gellert would rather go second, he always feels better when he can see Al, but he isn't going to tell Albus that. He suspects it would annoy Al, if he knew how Gellert worries about him, constantly. He knows perfectly well that Albus is more then capable of taking care of himself, that he doesn’t need protection. This fact has no effect on him. Even if Al can defend himself, he still wants to be the one to do it.

They approach the apartment building in dead silence, moving slowly and steadily. Gellert feels Al taping his shoulder once when they reach the building, and turns to see Albus holding three fingers in the air.

 _Third floor_ , Al mouths. Gellert nods and moves to the side of the building. Some of the stones that make up the side of the building bulge out, making for comfortable holds for the climb up. Albus gives him what he supposes is meant to be an encouraging look but ends up being more worried then heartening, and walks into the building.

Gellert shakes his head, resolving to have a discussion with Al later about why in these situations he always ends up being the one climbing on the outside of buildings while Albus gets to go up staircases.

He places his hands on the stones and hauls himself up. His legs dangle in the air as he climbs, using his arms alone. He climbs past a fat man in his underwear staring blankly at the TV, past a family sitting for dinner and up to his target.

Gellert hangs to the side of the window and puts his legs on a stone, leaning slowly to the side until he can see into the living room.

Severus Snape stares back at him.

***

The problem with being a vampire, Hermione reflects as she steps out of the church, is that she can't actually get drunk. At least not by actually consuming alcohol. Like the rest of human food and drink, it had no effect on her. But what she can do, and what she's planning on doing, is drinking blood from an intoxicated human. So, after leaving the church, she heads straight to the nearest bar. She stands outside the bar, in the shadows, waiting for someone to come out. It doesn’t take long for a clearly inebriated man stumbles out. She follows him into the alley way, feeling very much like a murderess stalking her prey, even if she doesn't actually intend on killing the man. Sighing deeply, she reaches out for the man and sinks her teeth deep into his flesh.

She drinks right up to the point that the man would die if she continues, then pushes him to the ground and sighs deeply, whipping her mouth. A tingly feeling goes through her and she grins. She turns around to walk away, but then sees something that makes her swear out loud.

The man is clutching a cross in his hand.

"Fuck," She mumbles, feeling herself getting drunker and drunker.  "Fuck, fuck. This is _not_ my night."

She hesitates and then closes her eyes slightly before bending over and prying the man's hands open and takes the small silvery cross, placing it on her palm and looking at it. She suddenly feels a strange need to talk to someone, but there's no one around. She sighs.

"We need to talk," She tells the cross. "I mean, not you, as in the cross, you as in God. All right? So just…um…listen, yeah? I've done a lot of bad things lately, and I want to tell you about it, I want to talk to you. Just listen to me for a bit, yes? Ok, here I go. I have debased your place of worship by my presence. I have scared a man of the cloth, making him uncomfortable in his own church," She takes a deep breath, clutching the cross to her chest. Suddenly she can't see, can't smell, can't feel anything except the metal cross in her palm, and just for a moment, just for a second, she can almost feel the _cold_ radiating from it.

Or perhaps it's just the drink.

"And those are the least of my sins, my Lord. I wish…I wish I could tell you everything, but I don’t have all night," A bitter laugh escapes her. "So, let's just start with…the one that's bothering me the most right now. I'm afraid that I'm believing in you less and less and I am so scared. I want to believe in their gods, I want to be with them on this, because I know. I know that I will never be accepted into your Kingdom. There is not enough time in the world for me to make up for everything I have done, and I don’t even want to try. I just… don't have the energy, you see? Enough energy to really feel bad about everything. So, wouldn't it be easier, to accept their gods? I won't be dammed with those gods."

Hermione shivers, suddenly feeling that she's overlooking something very important. Something right in front of her. But her mind refuses to tell her what it is. She's not done yet.

"When I was a child, my mother used to tell me that I was a gift from God, sent to compensate her for everything she'd gone through. She thought it would make me feel loved, make me feel less like a mistake, but it just reminded me of why I existed, what had happened to her. And I _hated_ her. I loved her so much, but I hated her so much too. It was her fault, I thought. Her fault that when we walked down the street, people looked at me and whispered. It was her fault that I stood out, because I looked different then everyone else. It hard her fault that my step-father had to go and beat boys up for saying things about me. Her fault, because she wasn't strong enough to leave that damned _job_ in my father's home, wasn't strong enough to stop me from being created."

She stops, and realizes what it is her mind wouldn't tell her. There's someone standing in front of her, watching, and she really should reconnect with her senses, and find out who it is, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t, so she can let herself believe, just for a bit, that it's God looking at her.

"I suppose that's what I need most forgiving for. For thinking those terrible thought about her. And I know I was just a child, and children don’t understand everything…but I think about how strong she was, everything she endured for me, all the pain, all the humiliation, all the sneering, and I feel so, so guilty. And I just hate myself for every bad thought I ever had about her. But mostly for leaving her, for leaving her for Dumbledore and this world, for leaving her and letting her think I was dead. And…and I suppose that's it, really, that's all I have for you tonight. Hope you didn’t find it too boring."

She opens her eyes and ears and nose and she must have become much drunker then she thought, because she's hallucinating an angel in front of her.

"Hermione," It says.

She blinks.

"I'm drunk."

"I suppose," The hallucination walks hesitantly towards her, and that's rather odd, because shouldn't a figment of her own mind walk fast, as fast as she wants it to, which is about the speed of a running cheetah? "But I'm still here, promise."

"Oh," She says, suddenly unable to think, and blurts out, "Fifteen years and you come back when I'm drunk and look-"

"You look beautiful," Draco says, and she can tell he's telling the truth. And how strange is it, that she knows when he's lying, given the fact that they barely know each other at all?

And suddenly it hits her, that he's here, that it's real, that he's dressed according to the latest fashion, that his hair is slicked backwards, that he's standing close to her but holding off on actually touching her, and she's suddenly so furious she hits him without quite thinking about it, right in the dick.

Hard enough to break it.

Draco lets out a completely justified but frankly undignified high-pitched squeal and falls to the floor, withering like a fish out of water. Hermione just kicks him hard and screams, "I knew I smelled you!"

She waits for the affected bone to right itself, for the screams to die down and for Draco's squeals to stop, and then she repeats herself.

"I knew I smelled you, you fucking _asshole_!"

Draco gulps and pulls himself into a seated position. He then blushes deeply, "I…yeah, um, came back a few times…to see you." He looks at her, looking helpless. "That's creepy, isn’t it?"

"Oh, absolutely," Hermione says dryly, though her head has skipped a few beats. "But then again we _are_ vampires and I think we have a pretty high tolerance for creepy behavior. I mean, a common practice among vampire lovers is to drink each other's blood, so there's that."

They stare at each other for a moment and Hemione realizes how _inviting_ , for lack of a better word, that had sounded. She can't find it in herself to care, especially when Draco blushes deeper. It's not exactly nice, but she finds she can't help but enjoy the effect she has on him.

"Why didn't you come earlier?"

"I didn’t feel ready. I would meet human-born vampires and my first thought would be _mudblood_. I didn't think it would take me so long, to get over that. I almost gave up a few times. That's when I would go to see you. I thought how disappointed you would be is I gave up," He turns away.

"Draco," Suddenly Hermione can't contain herself anymore, and throws herself at Draco. His warm hands envelope her in a tight hug, and lips press on her tight braids. Hermione feels something settle down inside of her and think, _this is it, this is the place for me._ She can't remember a time in her life when she felt safer.

"Please don't go away again," She whispers. "Please. I don’t think I could take it."

The arms around her tighten, and she hears Draco whisper, "I won't ever leave you again, I swear."

It doesn’t sound at all like a promise. More like some kind of holy commitment. And this, this is a religion she can stand behind a hundred percent.

***

Albus hears the sounds of a fight from a story down. He lets out a sharp curse in German for Gellert's sake and darts up the stairs, pushing the humans emerging form their apartments onto the ground. He reaches the apartment door and smashes it down, hurling inside.

He doesn’t have time to take in more then the image of someone holding Geller in a choke hold before he crashes into the fighting duo and they go through the window, all three of them.

The momentum of his push sends them into flying onto the nearby rooftop. The wind whips into Albus's eyes, and he pushes himself away from the two other figures just in time to land on his feet, keeping his eyes trained on Gellert's attacker. The man stands up. Albus swallows softly.

"Severus, haven't seen you for quite some time," He says quietly as Gellert, besides him, pulls pieces of glass out of his hand and swears in High German, Swiss-German and Austrian-German. Severus's narrow eyes never leave Albus, watching, waiting. Albus is tempted to warn him that he's making a grave miscalculation, that the greater danger comes from Gellert, who's looking at Severus with a sneering expression. Gellert never liked it when people equaled him- if those people were not Albus, with him he found it… well, anyways, Severus has equaled Gellert, by recreating his potion. And when Gellert starts swearing in different versions of German it means he's _very_ mad indeed. This has the potential to turn very ugly, very quickly.

"Dumbledore," Severus says coldly.

"And I'm also here," Gellert replies dryly.

"Gellert, quiet for a moment, please," Albus wants very badly to hit him in the back of the head. "Severus, please come back with us-"

Severus lets out a cold and bitter laughter. Albus can see Gellert tense besides him, and puts a hand out. It collides with Gellert, who was starting to move forward. Severus turns his cold eyes to Gellert but then quickly moves back to Albus. Second mistake. Gellert goes not like to be ignored.

"Oh, Professor, kind, forgiving Professor Dumbledore," Severus sneers. "Forgiving, hypocritical Professor Dumbledore. I am not looking to be one of your followers, waiting in baited breath for any word of encouragement from you."

Instinctively, Albus grabs Gellert's arm to stop him from moving forward. Again. He's doing a lot of Gellert-handling today.

"Be _very_ careful now," Gellert sneers.

"You didn't have to bring your bodyguard, Professor," Severus says with a raised eyebrow.

"Severs-" Albus starts, though he isn’t sure what else to say. It turns out it doesn't matter, as he's interrupted.

"All right, I've had enough," Gellert sneers, detangling himself from Albus's grasp, and attacks.

"No, don’t," Albus moves forward, but it's to late. Severus growls and leans forward, colliding with Gellert, who begins pushing Severus towards the edge of the roof, as Severus pounds his fists into Gellert's back. Albus hears a familiar sounding break and Gellert goes limp, his back broken. Severus straightens up and raises his foot to stomp on Gellert's chest, but his leg is caught by Gellert's hand and with a growl, Gellert sends Severus flying through the air, right to Albus, who puts a fist up to collide with Severus's chest. He doesn’t wait to see if he's been successful in breaking his former student's bones, but pounces on him, hitting him again in his throat, and bringing out his claws to slash at Severus's chest.

He takes moment to look Severus over, and finds his eyes have closed and his body has gone slightly limp. For a moment he thinks it's over, and then he feels a sharp pain in his stomach and groans as two pairs of claws dig into his belly, and blood, among with other things he'd rather not think about at the moment, spill out of him and he tumbles to the ground.

"Is this…this all you have, Professor?" Albus doesn’t bother replying as Severus digs his claws deeper into him. He just grits his teeth and hopes that Gellert has enough self-control not to kill Severus. They need to question him. "Because I expected more from-"

He gasps and stops talking, which is quite understandable, given the fist that has just appeared, sticking out of his stomach. Stomach is good, stomach is not heart. Albus puts his hands on the gaping holes in his own stomach, covering his hands in blood but keeping most of his body parts inside where they belong, and watches as Severus falls to the ground next to him and Gellert looks down at the two of them, holding…

"Is…is that his large intestine?" He blinks.

Before Gellert can answer, Severus growls and jumps up, wobbly. Albus watches in mild horror as his former student tries attacking Gellert again, and Gellert simply kicks him back to the ground and wraps the large intestine around his neck as his long and flexible legs go around Severus's waist, pinning him in place as he chokes him.

"Chocking someone with their own intestine, this is a first," Gellert frowns for a moment, as if thinking hard, as he keeps Severus in place, then his face brightens and he announces happily, "I like it."

Albus groans as Severus gasps, flaying around, trying to escape the death grip keeping him in place. Hands sticky from blood, Albus pushes himself forward and grabs one of Severus's flailing hand and slashes his wrist, pushing the skin apart to stop it from repairing itself. The blood oozes out as Severus fights on, but before long he's gone and Albus collapses on the ground. He places his palm over his eyes.

"Al, come on, we need to go, the humans called their police, I heard them," He feels Gellert's firm hands pulling him up.

Albus groans and allows himself to be hauled into a standing position and watches as Gellert picks Severus's body and puts it over his shoulder. The image makes a lump grow in Albus's throat. Was he really _such_ a terrible teacher? Sometimes it felt that half his students went bad. Which wasn't true, of course, but still, perhaps it was a good idea that he quit teaching.

But even outside of teaching he had managed to screw up. An image of Hermione's horrified face flashes through his mind. She had been so scared of him, before she took off into the night. So scared and worse, so distrustful. He could see it in her eyes.

"Al? Love?"

Albus blinks, and shakes his head, "Yeah. Let's go."

Geller gives him a searching look, but to Albus's immense relief, he doesn’t say anything, just jumps off the roof and following Albus through the streets. Albus can feel Gellert relaxing behind him.

 _He's always calmer when he walks second_ , he thinks, _and he thinks I don’t notice, the idiot_. But that's a conversation for another time. They have more important things to discuss, besides Gellert's tendency for being strangely protective.

"We need to get back to The Burrow, Severus must know where Tom is," Albus says quietly.

"Hmm," Gellert keeps his pace steady. "Or we go take him to Nurmengard."

Albus stops abruptly and turns around, "No."

"No? Do you really think that this man will talk, give you the information you want, freely? Because I have an odd feeling that he will not."

Albus feels a strange feeling in his stomach, and it takes him a moment to realize that it's guilt. Guilt for what he already knows he's about to do.

"And would I be correct in my assumption that your kind-hearted and noble people will not allow you us to do what we need to do to get information out of him."

And I've already disappointed Hermione enough lately.

"We’ll go to Nurmengard."


	6. Connections And Miscalculations

_He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same_

_–Emily Brontë_

He can't seem to stop touching her, and since she doesn’t seem to mind, he's not intending on stopping. She's sitting on his lap, smiling softly down at him as he touches her fingers, her palms, her arms, her shoulders. Hermione puts a hand on his chest to stop him. He feels blood rushing down to his groins as Hermione squirms out of her long jacket. He considers for a second that maybe they shouldn't be doing this in the middle of the alleyway, but then Hermione purrs softly into his ear and he can't think anymore.

"I missed you, so much," He whispers to her, placing a hand on her soft shoulder. His heart catches in his throat when he sees the pale line on Hermione's throat. He pulls his hand away.

"Hey, hey," Hermione frowns softly and catches his hand. "It was a long time ago, it's fine. And besides, I think I hurt you worse." She flashes out her claws and slashes open his shirt, revealing the large scar on his chest. Her long fingers trail the skin and he feels a shiver go through him.

Draco wants to say something about not having the right to complain about Hermione hurting him since she was defending herself at the time, but the words get caught in his throat as Hermione moves closer and begins gently kissing his scar, and then his chest. Her hands rest on his shoulders as her lips go lower, and lower, and lower-

"Gods!" Draco jerks away, involuntarily. Hermione blinks, frowns, and looks up. Draco swallows. "Um…"

"Draco," Her intelligent, beautiful eyes sparkle, and she leans backwards again. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

His body aches at the loss of her touch, and he gently takes hold of her arms, pulling her closer. He relaxes when he feels her body against his again.

"Can I ask you something?" Hermione asks softly.

Draco's heart clenches slightly, "Yeah, ah, yeah." _Smooth_ , he reprimands himself. It barely feels real, having her with him, and he very much doubts in his ability to _not_ ruin it.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" Hermione's voice is steady.

Draco feels a blush grow on his cheeks, "D'you…do you know how old I am?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Hermione looks up at him and Gods, she's so much more beautiful up close then she was when he watched her from far away, and he is well aware of how creepy that sounds.

Maybe he can take her somewhere, now that the war is about to end, hopefully. He wants to ask her about how it went in the Ministry, what the High Court had said about the human girl and the Death Eaters.

The Ministry had to agree to fight the Death Eaters, they _had_ to. It couldn't all be for nothing…

"Draco? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you."

"No, no, it wasn't that!" Draco shakes his head. He feels the need to tell Hermione something, to impart some knowledge of himself to her, something she'll know about him no one else does, and there's only one thing that comes to mind, so he says, "I am. A virgin."

Oh.

Oh no.

Why had he said _that_?

He waits for Hermione to laugh, or push him away. After all, why wouldn't she react like that? He's around fifty years older then her and he's never…he feels himself grow crimson red.

Hermione shifts against him, and he steadies himself, but she just gets more comfortable on his lap. Draco blinks down at her, shell-shocked.

"All right," Is all she says, her voice slightly slurred. "Do you have any money on you? We can rent a hotel room."

"I-" Draco shakes his head, puzzled. "You…you don't think that it's…it's…pathetic?"

Hermione lets out a high and amused laughter and pats Draco's chest fondly, "You're funny."

It's impossible not to smile back at her, but Draco finds something nagging at him.

"Hermione…you’re drunk."

Hermione narrows her eyes at him, "Aha."

"So…so, this isn't right," He shakes his head, trying to push away from her. She's drunk, he shouldn’t-

Hermione's smile disappears and she catches Draco's hand in both her hers, sending pleasurable shivers down his spine. She looks at him with a serious expression and says, "I have. Before, before we met."

"Huh?"

"Fucked someone."

Draco groans, blushing even deeper, and feels something twitch down there.

"If…if you don’t want to do it now, let's get that hotel room, and wait 'till I'm sober again. Does that make you feel better?"

Oddly enough, it does. Draco feels the heavy feeling in his chest lessen slightly, and he doesn't complain when Hermione squirms to a standing position and pulls him up as well. She smiles at him gently and gives him a kiss on the forehead, the way she had when they separated all those years earlier.

"There's a hotel pretty close nearby. We should go, the sun's coming up soon."

***

When Ginny wakes up, still in the midst of her nightmare, she places her entire fist in her mouth. It's an automatic reaction, conditioned into her through over a decade of waking up in the middle of the day, screaming and bringing concerned people to her room. She's rather sick of the worry, of the delicate touches her mother gives her, as though she's afraid that Ginny might break if touched too hard.

It's been bothering her more and more, the calming and gentle tone her mother and father's voices take when they come to her after a nightmare. They seem to forget that she's no longer a child. She's nearly forty, for fuck's sake.

That’s why she's been conditioning herself to jam her fist in her mouth. This way, when she comes out of the nightmare, the inevitable scream is muffled and turns into biting down on her own flesh instead.

Her fangs come out, and pokes holes into her skin. She shivers lightly and sucks at the puncture wounds, tasting her own blood. She grimaces. It's not good.

Sighing softly, Ginny gently and carefully takes her hand out of her mouth. She lets the bloody fist sling to the side, healing quickly, and slips out of the sweat-soaked sheets. She peels off her nightdress and puts on a pair of overalls over a white shirt that once belonged to her brother Bill, before Fleur forced him to give it up to Ginny for being 'too ugly, _mon amour_.'

She needs to be careful going down the stairs, not to make too much noise. Luckily, Susan and Teddy both mumble in their sleep, which is a wonderful cover for her tip-toed decent down the stairs. Carefully avoiding the loud toys on the floor, Ginny makes her way to the garage.

She smiles at her car as she closes the door behind her. She can't work on it, not without waking everyone in the household up, so she just slips inside and curls into a ball on the backseat.

She's been working on reconstructing this Ford Angila with her father for nearly three years now, ever since she found the poor thing burned to a crisp on the side of the road.

When Ginny had found it, it had still smelled faintly of smoke. Her first reaction had been to recoil violently, fall onto the ground and try and stop her mind from taking her back _there_ , to _burns_ and _pain_ and _Ron_. Her second reaction had been to think, _I'm going to fix it_.

She had returned to The Burrow dragging the burned husk of a car, and her father, her brilliant, kind father had said, "I'll help, shall I?"

Ginny somewhat regrets agreeing to take her father's help in reconstructing the car, because despite being incredibly interested in human technology, her father didn't actually _know_ anything about it, and he'd already derailed the project on more than one occasion. One time, quite memorably, he had poured sand into the car instead of oil.

Still, Ginny isn’t actually annoyed that it's been taking so long, she enjoys having something to fix and look after, and Remus had approved of it. When Remus approved of something, it almost always meant that it was a good idea.

Smiling, Ginny pats the car. It's comfortable here, safe, and the gently opening door behind her doesn’t change that feeling. She turns her head slightly as Harry comes into the garage, carefully closing the door behind him and padding over to the Ford Angila.

"Permission to enter the vehicle?" He whispers.

Ginny smiles, "Granted," and opens the door for Harry.

As Harry stumbles in and takes a seat beside her, Ginny takes a moment to look him over. As usual, his black hair is sticking out in all directions, making Ginny want to reach out and flatten it. Not that there's any point, it will just shoot right back up.

His green eyes, which Ginny has always found incredibly beautiful, stand out even more than usual against the blue shirt he's wearing, and Ginny finds herself momentarily lost in them.

They're so _calm._ There's an inner serenity in them that's entirely lacking in James Potter's. They seem to infect her with their stillness, making her slack against the seat. She wonders idly to herself if it's something he inherited from his human mother.

Harry clears his throat, and Ginny jumps, realizing suddenly that she's been staring into Harry's eyes for some time now. Blushing, she starts to turn away, but Harry's hand goes up to her face, hovering over her lips, almost touching but not quite. It's a question, a request.

Ginny answers it by leaning in closer, so Harry's fingers touch her lips. He smiles at her, a warm, open smile, and puts his other arm over the seat, leaning closer.

They kiss, open mouthed, deep and slow. Ginny shivers, enjoying his taste, how safe she feels, the causal intimacy when Harry's fingers go up to her hair and begin playing with a strand.

Ginny slips into Harry's lap, and mumbles into Harry's mouth, "Why're you awake?"

Harry places his hands on her waist, cradling her, and says, hesitantly, "I smelled blood."

Her blood, shit, she forgot. She groans and pulls away from Harry, "Fuck's sake. My parents-"

"I checked on them, they're asleep," Harry reassures.

Ginny smiles, touched by his thoughtfulness, "Thank you, Harry."

He nods, eyes trained on her breaks, and says, eyes narrowing, "I know you don’t like it when they come to you at night."

Ginny sighs and wraps her legs around Harry's waist and smiles, "Thank you, Harry. I appreciate it. I really do."

"No problem," Harry shrugs. "I understand what it's like to need a break from your parents."

"Hmm," Ginny gives Harry another soft kiss and leans her head against his chest. Long fingers go up to caress her hair, gently scratching her skull. She melts into his arms, snuggling at him. "I'm sure James Potter can get a bit overwhelming at times."

Harry snorts, and Ginny can feel him relax on the seat. She yawns softly, and immediately Harry begins humming a lullaby. She grins and whispers, "I'm not Teddy, Harry."

She feels Harry smile against her, "Automatic reaction, sorry."

"Apology excepted," They sit quietly for a few moments, and then Ginny feels the need to say, "I love you, you know."

"I know," Harry replies. "Sleep, Ginny."

She does.

***

"Urgh…" Hermione groans as she rubs her head. "Hurts."

"Sorry," She hears Draco says as the edge of the bed sinks beside her. She opens her eyes to see Draco sitting down next to her. "I wish we had ingredients here, I could make you a potion for it. We learned how to make it in Hogwarts. I used to make it for my father all the time."

She decides against commenting on that, getting the feeling that discussing Draco's parents might ruin the casual intimacy they've somehow developed.

"I hate hangovers, so, so, much," Hermione places her throbbing head on Draco's lap. "You know, it was easier when I was a human. Drink water, eat something light..."

"Water," She can feel Draco shake his head. "Water fixes everything for humans, doesn’t it?"

"Not _everything_ ," Hermione smiles and turns to look up at Draco. "But a lot of things, sure. Like being thirsty, or-" she stops, because Draco is looking down at her as if she's a priceless jewel. It makes her blush deeply and tug at Draco, pulling him towards her.

"You're sure?" He mumbles.

"Of course I'm fucking sure," She rolls her eyes and moves up to kiss Draco.

It feels strange to her, how comfortable she feels with Draco. As she lets him strip her of her shirt and bra and slips Draco's shirt off of him, her skin tingles with anticipation and the lower parts of her body throb, almost painful, but not quite. She puts her hands on Draco's chest and pushes him on the bed, straddling his thighs and looking down. Draco's cheeks are flushed, and his eyes wide. He puts his hand on her stomach and trail up. She feels a shiver go down her spine and puts her hands over Draco's as his hands go up to her breasts. Hermione's gasps slightly as fingers lightly trail her breasts, circling around her nipples and then gently touching them. She bits down on her lip, and tightens her hold on Draco's, making his fingers clasp harder on her nipples.

"Don't, don’t, I'll hurt you," Draco gasps, sitting up.

Hermione shakes her head softly, "No, don't worry, you won't hurt me."

Draco swallows, "Are you sure?"

But Hermione can tell, that despite his question, his groin is quite interested. It makes her body throb even harder in response, and she squeezes harder. Both of them hiss softly. She takes her hands off Draco's and leans down to unzip Draco's pants, freeing his erection. Draco gasps as she places a hand on him and strokes him twice.

"Oh, um, um," Draco mumbles, eyes wide. Hermione grins and stands up, shimmering out of her pants and grasps at Draco's cock.

"Stop thinking," She mumbles, and they both let out a groan as Draco slips into her. She grabs the headboards of the bed above her and pushes deeper in. "Come on…"

Draco puts his hands on her, completely silent. He thrusts and she feels the headboard crack and break under her.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," Draco gasps, and Hermione has to agree with that sentiment. Her mind is growing foggy, and soon all she can see is a white light, a beautiful and encompassing white light, and after a few minutes, she comes with a loud scream, collapsing into Draco's chest, feeling herself being filled up on the inside. She holds onto Draco as his cock grows limp inside of her, and he gently detaches himself, pulling out of her. She can feel him shivering slightly, and then warm arms come up and circle her, pulling her close.

They lay in silence for a few moments, and then Hermione feels Draco pull them up so he can lay on the pillows and she says, "How was that?"

Draco's arms tighten around her for a moment and then he whispers, " _Fuck_."

Hermione lets out a small laughter. She's rather satisfied as well. She closes her eyes, comfortable on Draco's chest. A few more moments pass and then Draco says, hesitantly, "Can…can we do that again?"

***

"Hello?" Ginny grabs the phone as she slaps Teddy's hand away from the open bag of blood. "That's for your Uncle James."

"Ginny, it's me," Hermione's voice sounds lazy and slightly euphoric. It's an odd sound, one that Ginny doesn’t think she ever heard from her.

"Hermione, hi- _Edward Black-Lupin_ , put that down right now!" Teddy rolls his eyes at her, but obediently puts the blood bag down and shuffles away, back to where Susan is building with blocks. Harry had gotten the two quite a large number of blocks (amazingly, he had bought the blocks after the slinky incident. Ginny would have thought he'd had learned his lesson about giving Teddy more ammunition for his mischief, but apparently not.) and he and Susan were in the middle of creating a 'long castle'- as opposed to a 'high castle', apparently. She still hasn't figured out the difference. "Sorry, Hermione, but James and Sirius are trying to contract Andromeda Tonks and we're watching Teddy and Susan…anyway, what were you saying?"

"Can you two…um, come meet me? There's something I want to discuss with you, and I can't really do it in The Burrow," Hermione sounds hesitant, almost scared, but Ginny can tell she's more scared that Ginny will say no to her request then of anything else.

"What happened?" She asks immediately. "Not something bad, right?"

"No, no! Actually, something very…something I really can't talk about on the phone," _Where everyone one can hear_ , Ginny translates. But Hermione leaves that part unsaid.

"All right, we'll meet tomorrow night," She doesn’t say where, because she doesn’t have to. They decided along time ago, the three of them, that if they ever need to meet without anyone finding out, they'll do it at the Shrieking Shack, the cottage built by Remus to hold him during his monthly transformations.

"Thank you, Ginny, I really appreciate it," Hermione says and hangs up the phone, leaving Ginny blinking down at hers.

"Huh," She says, because Hermione sounded really happy, which is odd, given what a disaster the visit to the Ministry had been (Sirius is still sulking about it, and Ginny expects he'll continue for a while longer). But she doesn’t have time to think about it properly, since just then there's a shriek and she turns to see that Teddy has poured the whole bag of blood over his sister's head.

***

Vinda Rosier is waiting when they reach Nurmengard. She's standing in the entrance hall, by herself, arms folded and a deathly look in her eyes. Gellert supresses a sigh. He doesn’t have the time or frankly the inclination to deal with her at the moment, not with Al so deliciously close and interrogations to be had. But, of course, as soon as Albus sees her, he murmurs something about putting Snape in a cell and slips away to the dungeons far bellow, leaving Gellert to deal with Rosier alone.

So he does. He motions her to follow him to his office (one of his offices, the one he keeps for talking to his people, the one that's rather bare, showing nothing of his inner life that they can pick apart and discuss), and sits down, leaving his standing in front of him. And why shouldn’t she? Why should she sit, instead of standing in attention for her master?

"What is it?" He asks curtly. "I don’t have time for this, so if something's wrong, I need you to get to the point right away."

Rosier frowns, looking down at her feet, and shuffles them around. She suddenly looks like a little child, like a girl who has lost her parents in the park and it trying very hard not to start crying. It infuriates him. Has he really made her _that_ dependent on him?

"You brought him here," She finally says, and the hatred in her voice causes Gellert to tense involuntarily. He forces himself to relax, reminding himself that there's no danger for Al here, from her. She wouldn’t dare.

"I did, how is that any of your business?" He starts to stand up, and is pleased to see Rosier take a step backwards in fear. Good.

But her fear doesn’t stop her from talking. She looks as though she can't help herself, as though she has to speak or something in her might explode.

"Why did you bring him here?" She blurts out.

Gellert frowns. He had not expected that whiny tone, that confusion, the puzzlement, as though she truly could not understand why he had brought his lover to the place she considered hers. No, not hers. Hers and his. Theirs.

Far, far too dependent. He had made a truly staggering miscalculation here. He needs to right this as quickly as possible. Rosier is a loyal and useful pawn, he has no wish to be forced to get rid of her prematurely.

"Listen to me very carefully now," He says, slowly and deliberately. Rosier knows that tone. It makes her straighten out and look him right in the eye, all her attention on him. That's something, at least. "You do not question my actions, or my choices. You do not ask me why I choose to bring certain people here, this not your place, it is mine and I alone get to decide who comes and who goes. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," She says quietly, but there's a sparkle in her eyes that he doesn’t like. Not one bit.

"Good, so if that's everything," He stands up and starts to walk out of the office, only to be called back by a very clear and confident statement.

"He's not going to stay."

He stops dead in his tracks, feeling a murderess anger boil right under the surface. He puts his hand over his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself, before he turns around to face Rosier. Her face is calm and impassive, like that of a person who has made a decision and is going to execute it even if she realizes that it's the wrong one. And he would be hard pressed to find a worse decision then the one she just made.

"What did you say to me?" He asks, quietly, deadly, just to give her a chance to back down.

But she just looks him straight in the eyes, and says, calm and confident, "He'll leave. He won't stay here. He never stays with you."

"Rosier," Gellert moves back towards her, and catches her having to stop herself from automatically retreating. But she does stop herself, she doesn't move. It infuriates him. What is she _thinking_? "Stop talking."

"No," Rosier shakes her head, desperation suddenly appearing in her dark eyes. "No, I won’t. I want to know. I want to know what I have to do. I don’t leave, I stay with you, I stay all the time. I do everything you tell me, I love you, I'm loyal to you. But you still go back to him, every time!" There are tears in her eyes now, and her throat is clenched.

"But he doesn’t love you the you love him, he always leaves you. End he will never, ever stay the way you want him to. He will never be as loyal to you as you are to him, as loyal as _I_ am to _you_ , I don’t understand-"

She suddenly gasps, and slumps against him. Gellert sighs, clutching her heart between his fingers, and she shutters, holding onto him, still thinking if she shows him enough how much she needs him, he won’t do it. With a roll of his eyes, Gellert pulls the heart out, and she collapses onto the ground. He looks at the still-beating heart in his fist and then lets out a disgusted sound before throwing it on the ground.

"What. A. Waste," He clicks his tongue and goes over to the water pitcher to clean himself up. He doesn’t want Albus to know what he did. He very much doubts his lover will approve.


	7. Breaking Down

_When you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you_

_-Friedrich Nietzsche_

This isn’t what Harry had expected. Not that he had known exactly _what_ to expect. There hadn't been much time to think about what Hermione could possibly wantfrom Ginny and him, in between helping Sirius clean Susan up from all that blood and then the marathon of Star Trek episodes he had somehow found himself in with Bill and Fleur, who had been drinking constantly and needed her cup filled again and again. Apparently being perpetually thirsty is a side-effect of pregnancy.

So, there hadn't been enough time to think, and if there had been, _this_ is not what would have come to mind. He would have maybe thought that Remus was back and he and Hermione wanted help in organizing a nice surprise for Sirius and the kids, or maybe that Hermione found some rare creature that she wanted to bring to The Burrow but was afraid Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t approve of, or something else in a similar vain.

But this- this he did not expect.

Because, if he's being honest with himself, he hadn’t thought Draco Malfoy would ever return. He's never said this to Hermione, Harry but always assumed that Malfoy had gone back to his family, back to the Death Eaters, after leaving them.

But no. Here he is, sitting on one of the half-destroyed chairs in the Shrieking Shack, hand around Hermione's wrist in a gesture that's around three-quarters protective and one quarter possessive, and Harry does _not_ like that, not one bit.

It seems that Ginny agrees, since as soon as they're in the door, she lets go of his hand and rushes forwards to engulf Hermione in a hug, which forces Malfoy to release his grip as Hermione wraps her arms around Ginny in return. Malfoy turns to Ginny and his eyes narrow slightly.

 _He's still a spoiled little child_ , Harry thinks. _A spoiled little child who doesn’t like to share_.

"We missed you," Ginny whispers to Hermione, then they detach themselves from one another. Hermione is smiling softly.

"I missed you, as well. London was…" She shakes her head.

"Full of surprises?" Harry suggests dryly, eyes trained on Malfoy. The blond turns to give him an ashamed look.

 _Ashamed?_ Now Harry is confused. Well, more confused.

"Yes, well," Hermione looks up a little sheepishly. "I thought we'd better talk to the two of you before Draco comes to The Burrow."

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but a hand on his shoulder stops him. He looks up to see Ginny has moved back to his side. She squeezes his shoulder and says calmly, "All right, let's talk, then."

They all sit down on chairs and Hermione clears her throat, eyes flickering to Harry. He suddenly realizes that his jaw is clenched and forces himself to relax. He can tell that most of the tension in the room is coming from him. Everyone else is more unsure then anything else. Harry, on the other hand, is getting furious. And he's not even quite sure if he's right to feel that way. Doesn't Malfoy deserve the benefit of doubt?

Probably. But Harry can’t help himself, something just feels _wrong_ to him.

"You met in London, I suppose?" Ginny asks.

Malfoy blushes and looks away as Hermione says, "Yes. Dumbledore doesn’t know Draco came back-"

"I thought you and Dumbledore were coming back together," Harry interrupts with a frown.

"No, we split off after the Ministry debacle," Hermione replies, narrowing her eyes. Malfoy looks around and Harry feels a squirm in his stomach. He shouldn't be there, this stranger. This is Remus's place, this is _their_ place, his and Ginny's and Hermione's, and Malfoy doesn’t belong there, and Hermione had no right to bring him here, to violate their private place without asking them. "He was chasing down a lead. He hasn’t contacted you yet?"

"Nope," Harry pops the _p_. "But that's not that surprising, is it? When does he ever give us all the information he has-never mind. Look, can we get back to the frankly bewildering matter at hand?"

"Harry," Ginny says warningly, with rather the same tone she says _Edward_ when Teddy does something wrong. It's never a good sign.

"Wait a second," Malfoy says suddenly, eyes widening as the other three vampires turn to look at him. "What…what do you mean debacle? The High Court didn't listen to Dumbledore?"

"They listened," Hermione says bitterly. "They listened and chose to ignore him. They won’t fight Riddle."

"No, wait, no," Malfoy is shaking his head and backing out of his chair, and is that _horror_ on his face? Hermione seems to think so, as she jumps up after him, eyes wide with concern. "How is that possible? How could they just ignore everything, the proof, the symbols left behind in the human houses?"

There's a moment of deathly silence, and then Ginny says quietly, "How do you know about that?"

***

Albus puts Severus in Damascus steel shackles down in one of the dungeons. He leaves him there, not ready to wake him up with blood quite yet. He's so deep in the ground that the only thing he can hear is dripping water and the insane rumbling of the other prisoners. Albus doesn’t want to think very hard on how long they've been there to be talking to themselves.

When Gellert comes down to join him, there's an angry look in his eyes and his hands are wet. Albus looks down at them, eyes narrowing. Gellert's washed his hands in the hour since Albus saw him. That's very rarely a good sign.

"What happened?" He asks, or at least starts to ask, because Gellert comes up to him and crowds him against the wall, placing his hands on either side of Albus's face and kiss him hard. Albus, confused, tries to ask what is happening, but Gellert's tongue slips into his mouth insistently.  He's kissing him with no tenderness, no love, kissing him in a way that screams _mine!_ , as if as long as he can keep kissing, as long as he can keep them there, trapped inside one another's mouths, the whole will stop, everything else will cease to exist-

 _All right, that's enough_. Albus puts his hands on Gellert's chest and pushes him backwards, separating them. Gellert makes a hissing sound with his teeth clenched, making Albus want to bang his head on the wall. What was going on?

"Do you really think this is the time for this?" He snaps, furious.

Gellert sneers at him for a moment and then says, "I just wanted to kiss you."

"You… what now?" Albus rubs his eyes. "You wanted to _kiss_ me? Now?"

"Yes, now," Gellert pushes him back against the wall, hitting Albus's head hard enough to crack the wall. "Can I?"

"No," Albus replies, slipping out of Gellert's hold. "No!"

He groans and moves over to the fridge that has the bags of blood in it to begin waking Severus up, but a hand catches his wrist and he's spun around, back slammed against the closed fridge.

"Stop it!" Albus says, getting angry now. Gellert looks at him, mismatched eyes searching his face. Albus frowns at his face and reaches out to touch Gellert's face and asks gently, "What happened?"

Gellert shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, but Albus can tell something happens.

"Tell me what you did," He says quietly.

"Why do you assume _I_ did something?" Gellert tries to give a cheeky grin, but Albus can tell how fake it is. He pushes himself away from the fridge and opens it, taking a blood bag out.

"Because I know you? Just tell me what you did-"

"Albus, after this is over," Gellert's eyes narrow in the particular way Albus knows means he's nervous. "After we get the information out of Snape, and Riddle is finished, we should go somewhere. Just us, somewhere were there's no one else."

 _Now_ Albus is worried. He puts the blood bag down and moves over to Gellert.

"Gellert-"

"I know you leave," Gellert interrupts him, not looking him in the eyes. "I know."

"What-"

"But I don’t care, as long as I can go get you back," Gellert smiles softly and kisses Albus closed mouthed. "And I don’t care that you don't come to me, my love. I know that you won't, and I don't care. I don’t."

But he sounds like he does, his eyes getting larger, and Albus moves forward, grabbing Gellert's wrists with his hands and whispering, "I love you."

And Gellert detaches his wrists and wraps them around Albus's shoulders, rubbing his neck. He smiles and then says, "I don't need you to tell me that, I know. Come on, let's wake Snape up."

Albus swallows, watching Gellert pick the blood bag up and moving over to their prisoner.

"But-" He starts, then stops himself when Gellert looks up with a raised eyebrow. All the insecurity has drained out of his eyes, as if one declaration of love was all that he needed, and there's nothing else to say. Albus knows he didn't actually find out what happened, what made Gellert so strange all of a sudden, but he can't bring himself to care. His chest is strangely warm.

***

When Hermione had been around seven, she had fallen into a pit in a construction site. She had been walking home from school with her friends when a few older boys had begun pestering them and tugging at their braids. When the girls had ignored the boys, they had proceeded to chase them around the neighborhood. Hermione had not been paying much attention to where she was going, as long as it was away from the boys. That was how she had ended up tumbling down a rather shallow hole to the hard ground.

It had barely hurt, and she had only spent a few minutes in the hole before one of her friends had gotten Hermione's step-father, who had pulled her out and calmed her before carrying her to her mother, who had hugged her close to her chest and told her what a brave girl she had been.

No, the really awful part had been the fall itself. It had only taken a few seconds, but the toxic mix of confusion, terror and betrayal (because she had trusted the ground to hold her, and it had utterly failed her) had left her trembling and scared for days. She'd never felt that particular cocktail of emotions before, and it had rattled her. She hadn't experienced it since, either.

But she does now.

It really does feel like she's falling, as if Ginny's question has torn the ground out from under her and she's pulled down, down, again.

"How do you know about that?"

Her ears are filling with a whooshing sound like wind against her ears. There's a pit in her stomach, she's finding it hard to focus. She wants to allow herself to drift away from the present, to ignore the world around her, the clenching of her heart that feels so painful she thinks it might be actually physical, as she someone is actually grabbing her heart.

She closes her eyes, but she it's not like it was when she was praying, she can still hear, despite wanting otherwise. She hears Harry jumping up from his chair and sneering, "How did you know, Malfoy?"

"You fucking-" Ginny starts.

"I don’t know what you two want from me," Draco says, his voice calm and collected. But she can still tell when he's lying. She can always tell when he's lying.

"Stop, all of you. Shut the fuck up," She snaps, forcing her eyes open. Harry is shivering slightly, Ginny looks almost as haunted as she had when she came to Grimumauld Place all those years ago.

And everyone becomes perfectly still. Hermione looks at Harry and Ginny, and thinks, _they don't understand. They think he went back to the Death Eaters and that's where he where he knows that from._

And that would be bad enough, but Hermione knows the truth, even if she's trying as hard as she can to ignore that truth. But she can't, no matter how much her body tries to disengage, to leave her consciousness behind. But of course she can't.

That's not the kind of person she is.

She turns to look at Draco. His eyes are wide as he looks at her, and there's only worry in them, not guilt, and that's what does it.

"Harry, Ginny, could you please…I need you to leave," Her mouth decides to say, and it's good that her body chose to go ahead, because her mind is stuck, blank, unhelpful to the extreme.

"But-" Harry starts, but thank God, Ginny seems to realize that this is really not their fight, and they need to leave, so she grabs Harry's arm and pulls him away, face purposely blank.

Hermione waits until she can't hear or smell Ginny and Harry, and then she closes her eyes, and then her feet buckle under her and collapses onto the ground.

"Hermione!" Draco rushes towards her, putting tentative hands on her, and she shivers, wanting nothing more than to relax into his touch, but she forces herself to tense up and the hands withdraw. She opens her eyes and looks up at the ceiling, avoiding Draco's eyes. She doesn’t trust herself to be able to think clearly if she looks at him. And there are a few things she needs to ask.

"A few months ago, a human family was slaughtered, parents and two children. The youngest, a little girl, was left alone in the house. We thought it was the Death Eaters, because the murders had all their signature moves. But it was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

Hermione closes her eyes again, suppressing a sob, " _Why_?"

"So the Ministry would have to do something," Draco replies, so quietly that Hermione knows that if she wasn't a vampire she wouldn't be able to hear him. "So the war would be over and…and I could make up for everything I did-"

" _Make up for everything you did_?" Hermione's eyes fly open and she pushes herself away from Draco, until her back is against the wall. "By _killing_ people? By leaving a little girl alone in a crib with her mother's _severed hands_?"

Draco's eyes widen, and he shakes his head, "But they were just humans."

"Oh, God," Hermione groans, desperation eating away inside her. Her insides burn, burn up where he had spilled into her, filling her up, making her feel so _alive_ and… _and if we had met when I was a child, he would have left me with my brothers' eyes thrown around_.

"You didn’t…you didn’t change at all," She whispers. "All of your hatred, I thought it was gone, but it just moved, didn't it, from human-born vampires to humans."

"Hermione," His wretched voice calls out to her, but she pulls away, physically.

"You have to leave. You have to leave and never, ever come back. If you do, they will kill you." _Sirius will cut off your hands and Harry will pluck your eyes out and then I will crucify you_.

"Hermione, please, don’t send me away," His voice is so small. She wants to hold him and comfort him, but she also wants to kill him.

"You don’t understand, do you, what you've done," Hermione shakes her head. "You really don’t, do you?"

"Hermione-"

"No, no, I can't," She shivers and pulls herself away from Draco. He has to leave, he has to disappear before all the shock and hurt turn into anger, because she knows that when that happens, she will attack. She has to, for Susan.

"You have to leave and never come back."

***

When Snape wakes up, Gellert watches as Albus moves forward to address him, taking on that specific tone he uses for his students. Gellert doesn’t personally enjoy the voice. He finds it rather whimsical, not at all like Albus's usual controlled, melodic tone, but he's often seen the students respond to it. But a tone that works for young teens will not suit for an adult vampire.

Snape seems to agree, as he smirks and says, "So, we're doing good-cop, bad-cop?"

"Would you rather bad-cop, bad-cop?" Albus keeps the whimsical tone on.

"Is that the only option?" Snape tugs at his shackles. "I suppose it is, since Grindelwald won't play good-cop, will he?"

Albus gives him a quick look before turning back to Snape and saying, "No. He won't."

"I'm not afraid of him, Dumbledore," Snape sneers. "I'm not afraid of any pain he can inflict on me."

"Oh?" Al tilts his head, and suddenly his voice is calm and low. "Maybe not, but is Riddle worth the pain?"

Snape growls, but Albus just keeps on talking.

"It take a special type of loyalty to withstand the kind of pain that Grindelwald will put you through, and I don’t think Riddle inspires that kind of loyalty."

That's just blatantly untrue, and Snape points that out to Al, who just shrugs and says, "At least not in you."

Snape just sneers again. Albus sighs and stands up, walking past Gellert, and saying, over his shoulder, "I'll come back in a few hours."

***

When Hermione comes back she looks…well, Harry isn’t exactly sure how she looks because he's never seen that kind of expression on a human face before. He's seen it on a penguin, once, when the animal was brought to a zoo and was put in a cage for the first time. He had wobbled, back and forth, and then hit the glass wall. When he realized that suddenly, he couldn’t move as freely as he once could, that suddenly his entire would was shifting and he couldn't do anything about it, didn’t even fully understand what had happened, he had gotten that look on his face. Hermione looks exactly the same.

Harry's waiting for her in her room. He had asked Ginny to let them talk, just the two of them, because he knows Hermione, knows that she is kind, and good in a real way that not many people can boast of, and that she tried so very hard, and she'll need time, time to mourn, and perhaps it would not be very good for her to be alone in that time, but she doesn’t need both him and Ginny there when it happens, hogging her, looking over her as though she may break.

She walks straight up to him, eyes still red from crying, and he knows exactly what do to, opening his arms and letting her fall into him. He holds her close, feeling the quick beating of her heart, and buries his face in the curls she's released from their usual braids. The thick bouncing curls fly up all around her face, tickling his nose. He sniffs, smelling Hermione's familiar scent, and feels himself being smelled in turn.

He doesn’t know what to say. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, for the betrayal, how it wasn't her fault, she couldn't have known. He's figured it out, on the way to The Burrow, that Malfoy was the one to kill Susan's family. He wants to tell Hermione that it's all right, Susan won't blame her, Susan loves her, the blood isn’t on her hands. But it all sounds rather weak to his own ears, so he keeps quiet instead, waiting for Hermione to make the first move, to say the first words.

She does, eventually, but only after around an hour where she just lays there in Harry's arms.

"I'm sorry," She whispers. "I should have killed him years ago."

Harry shakes his head, "This isn't your fault, Hermione."

"Do you know what Malfoy did?"

"Yeah, I figured it out," Harry replies, but then looks down. "Since when do you call him by his surname?"

"Last names are less personal," Hermione mumbles. He can feel her shivering against him.

"Ah," Harry sighs.

"I let him go," Hermione tells him and sits up, pushing away from his chest. She's incredibly pale, but gives him a weak attempt at a smile. "I know that was wrong, before you say anything."

Harry blinks at her, "You did what."

"I-"

"You let him go."

"Yes," Hermione says and stands up, walking over to the window to look outside.

Harry shakes his head, groaning, "I can't believe this. I can't believe you let a killer go."

"I would have killed him if I hadn't let him go," Her tone is colorless and bland, completely neutral in every way.

"He killed Susan's family," Harry jumps up. "He deserves to die-"

"That wasn't my choice to make," Hermione's tone is still entirely neutral. "I just wanted him out, I wanted him away. I wasn't going to bring him to The Burrow. I wasn't going to bring him anywhere near Susan."

For a moment they stand in front of each other in complete silence, then Harry says, "I wouldn't want him near Susan either."                                                                                                                                                                                

He remembers what Luna had said to him, about how Susan will care much more if she was raised with love then if the murder of her family will be avenged. He wonders if this is what she meant, that it's much more important that they're a unified front to show Susan, that she feels safe and secure in her own house _. I don’t want to fight with Hermione_ , he thinks, _and I don’t want Malfoy anywhere near that little girl. Hermione might be right._

"We don’t have to worry about him, not ever again," Hermione says, as if she hadn't heard him speak. "He won't come back and he won't be interfering in the war again."

"But-"

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione says suddenly. Her voice takes on a soft and warm tone, which Harry much rather hear then the dull tone. "For reminding me."

"Reminding you of what?" Harry asks, puzzled.

"Reminding me that I have someone, that's I'm not alone," Hermione smiles, and really, how can Harry stay angry when faced with that grateful smile at him, and he opens his hands to engulf Hermione in another hug.

***

"Acid," Gellert says mildly, playing with the plastic bottle in his hands. The prisoner has stopped screaming, his skin quickly repairing itself from Gellert's knife slash, his body shivering violently. Gellert suppresses a sigh. The last fifteen minutes have been…boring, actually. He's not finding the proceedings as interesting as he usually does. Probably because his mind is full of other, far more important matters.

"That's what's in the bottle, in case you were wondering. Not," He looks down at the words on bottle, "Floor cleaner. Huh."

"Are…are you enjoying yourself?" The vampire pants.

"Actually, no, not at all," Gellert leans back on his chair, tossing the bottle from one hand to the other. He can smell Albus coming back, which is rather odd, since he only just left. Gellert feels a tightening in his gut. He found Rosier. Al will not be pleased.

"We're really going to do this if you're not invested?" Snape sits up, pushing oily black hair out of his eyes. "Or perhaps we're just going to wait for the Professor to come down? After all, what is a guard dog without its master?"

"Probably still a guard dog, animals don't lose their training just because they don't have a master," Gellert replies as Albus comes into view. There's a distant look in his eyes that worries Gellert, but before he can say anything Albus walks straight up to the cell and addresses their prisoner.

"This part of the good-cop, bad-cop routine is done," He says calmly.

"Really?" Snape sneers. "So quickly?"

"I've made a phone call," Al continues. "Lily Evans' son will be coming to join us."

There's a moment of silence and then Snape attacks.

Or, well, tries to, pushing himself up and lounging at Albus. It seems he's forgotten about the shackles holding him back, and comes crashing down to the ground, growling and hurrying to raise himself back, looking at Al with murder in his eyes. Gellert has to physically restrain himself from pulling Albus aside.

"Don’t you dare bring him into this," Snape growls. "This has nothing to do with him-"

"He's part of the Order, this has everything to do with him," Albus replies, his voice remaining just as calm. "So, you will talk to Harry, or will we have to try a different tactic? I hear he has his mother's eyes. I wonder if you've ever seen those eyes wide with pain. Have you?"

"Dumbledore-"

"Well, we'll just have to see when he gets here," Albus turns and walks away. Gellert grins to himself and follows, ignoring Snape's pained cries.

Gellert follows Albus, out of the dungeons and out of the castle. They walk into one of the many gardens on the castle grounds and Albus collapses next to a rose bush, rubbing his eyes.

"I found Vinda Rosier's body," He says, voice muffled by his hands.

Gellert keeps looking at him, trying to assess the damage he's done. When he does something Albus disapproves of, Al will get up and leave, disappear from his life for years, sometimes decades at a time, running away from him until he can't do it anymore and stays in place long enough to be caught and cuddled and reassured. The longest these estrangements have ever lasted was eighty-nine years. Gellert feels a tremor go through him.

_If he does that again, I will die. I can't survive without him so long again._

Albus puts his palms together and leans his head on them, eyes closed. He doesn’t seem to have anything else to say, but Gellert isn't going to be the one to break the silence.

They stay like that for some time, Gellert itching to touch Al, to get closer to him, but knowing that that would be the worst thing he can do at that moment.

Albus keeps his eyes closed, but eventually talks, keeping his voice steady and flat. With his eyes closed, Gellert doesn’t have an entry point into his soul, and it bothers him that he can't tell what Al is thinking.

"Do you remember, when you first found Vinda? You said she was intelligent, that she was…how did you put it? _Aware._ Aware of everything around her. But she isn't like that anymore-wasn't like that anymore. You stripped her of all that. You think you killed her now? I think you killed her hundreds of years earlier, this was just forcing her corpse to stop moving."

He opens his eyes and looks at Gellert, and his expression makes Gellert whisper, "Are we going to fight now?"

Albus laughs, a bitter, humorless laugh that make Gellert involuntarily shiver.

"Oh, I wish. But we don’t have the time for that, do we? Harry is on his way."

Gellert looks at Al as he stands up, and says, wanting to change the subject (maybe he can get that cold look out of Albus's eyes), "I'm surprised Snape fell for that. That he thought you'd actually torture-"

"He's obsessed," Albus smiles, a small, bitter smile. "He's obsessed with Harry's mother, he doesn’t think clearly. You know what that's like, don't you?"

***

Professor Dumbledore met Harry in the road leading up to Nurmengard. He's sitting on a rock with his chin on his palm. He doesn’t look up when Harry comes up, just waits until Harry is right next to him and then says, "Thank you for coming so quickly, Harry."

"It took me four days," Harry replies with a grin. He's quite pleased to see Dumbledore, despite all of his conflicting emotions towards the old vampire. Dumbledore can be frusitrating and confusing and unfair and annoying. But he's also, Harry suddenly realizes, barefoot. His grin grows.

Dumbledore smiles softly in reply, and looks up, hand coming up to clasp Harry's, "Have you ever been to Germany before?"

"Yeah, don't you remember? I was on a mission here a few years ago," Harry replies, and feels Dumbledore's hold on his hand tighten.

"Harry…" Dumbledore sighs deeply.

"Yes?" Harry blinks down at him.

There's a moment of silence and then Dumbledore says, "There's a Death Eater who I want you to talk to."

"I…what now?"

Dumbledore looks down again and then says, "A Death Eater who knew your mother. He knows where Riddle is, but he won’t talk to me or Grindelwald. I think he will talk to you."

"How…what…" Harry shakes his head, completely lost. "How could a Death Eater know my mother?"

"It's…" Dumbledore sighs. "It's…. Complicated, I suppose. When your mother was a child, she met a vampire, named Severus Snape."

"When she was a _child_?" Harry feels like throwing up.

"Yes. Snape was very attached to her, and she to him."

"That's…messed up."

Dumbledore snorts, "Yes, well. When Lily grew up, Snape started looking for more from her then just friendship. And she was not interested in giving that. That was when things got a bit complicated."

"Complicated."

"Lily managed to get in touch with your godfather, and he and your father kept her safe from Snape. After a few years, your mother and father fell in love and had you."

"And my mother died," Harry feels a sick feeling in his stomach.

Dumbledore sighs deeply, his hold on Harry tightening even more, "Snape doesn’t blame you for that. He blames your father for not turning her into a vampire."

"My mother didn't want to be turned," Harry says numbly. "That's what my dad says."

"Your father is right," Dumbledore replies. "Snape thinks that James should have turned Lily despite her wishes. That should tell you quite a lot about the kind of person he is. So, Harry, are you willing to talk to him? I won't blame you if you don't, but we really need it."

_That doesn’t sound much like a choice._

"I'll talk to him."

"Good," Dumbledore's whole body relaxes as he stands up, finally letting go of Harry's hand. Harry has to discreetly massage some feeling back into it. "Thank you, Harry."

They walk up the hill in silence for a few minutes, and then Harry decides to ask, "Did you know my mother, sir?"

Dumbledore gives him a swift look before turning back to the road and shaking his head, "No, I didn’t meet her. At the time this was going on I was…slightly busy with other things."

"Right," Harry mumbles as they come up to Nurmengard. Harry feels his jaw drop. It had seemed large from the road, but he didn’t realize just _how_ large it is. It's so tall he has to strain his neck to see the top and so wide it seems to swallow up the land around it. "Holly fuck."

Dumbledore snorts, "Yes, well, Grindelwald is a fan of grander."

"You can say that again," Harry mumbles as they walk through a garden, and then into a huge iron gate to an entrance hall with four humongous staircases that around ten people could walk on side by side without touching, and about fifteen chandeliers, each with hundreds of burning candles. He follows Dumbledore past the hall to a small wooden door leading to a stone staircase.

As the walk down (it takes a rather long time), Harry decides to ask another question.

"Sir, do you think my father made the right choice, not turning my mother?"

"Your father made no choice, Harry. It was your mother's," Dumbledore replies as they reach the end of the stairs.

"Right…" Harry follows Dumbledore into the dungeon maze.

"He's a good man, your father," Dumbledore says, coming to a stop in front of a cell holding a shackled man who stares at Harry with an intensity he finds incredibly overwhelming. Dumbledore walks over to the man and says, his voice suddenly taking on an icy tone, "Will you talk now?"

The man nods, eyes never leaving Harry's, and swallows.

"You have your mother's eyes."


	8. Playtime Is Over

_No one can tell what is righteous and what is wrong, what is good and what is evil_

_-Tsugumi Ohba_

It's one of those rare moments when both children are playing peacefully on the floor, the laundry is done, the hut is cleaned and Sirius doesn’t have any work to do for the Order, so he's using the rare calm to just sit down on the floor next to Teddy and Susan and watch their play.

They've been building a castle with the brown blocks Harry got them, and Teddy picks up four little blocks that he's painted red, blue, green and yellow.

"Here are the Four Gods, Susie," He says severely. Susan nods solemnly and moves to grab the green brick, but Teddy holds it out of her reach. "No, no, Susan. We like the _red_ one."

"Oh," Susan says with an understanding nod and takes the red brick.

"Teddy," Sirius pats his son's head. "Susan can chose which colour she likes, just like you."

"Right," Teddy nods, snatching the red brick and giving Susan the green one back. Susan, completely unbothered, just places the brick on the floor and moves it around like a car. Teddy grins and jumps up on Sirius's lap. "Tell me a story, Daddy."

"What about, Ted-Ted?"

"Hmm," Teddy tilts his head to the side. "About how you and Papa met-no! About…Oh, I know. Tell me a story about how vampires were created."

"All right," Sirius grins and turns to Susan, "Do you want to listen to the story, princess?"

"No, thanks," Susan replies, absorbed in her game.

"Tell," Teddy demands.

"So," Sirius begins, leaning back to get comfortable and also to keep Susan in sight as she stands up, turning the brick from a car to a plane and begins to run around. "Thousands on thousands of years ago there was an empty world, except for the Four Gods."

"They were the _only_ ones in the whole entire world."

"Yes, but they didn’t like that, not at all."

"Why?"

Sirius frowns, "Well, I suppose they felt that something was missing. When your Papa and I wanted you, we felt that something was missing. I guess it's the same for gods."

"Oh," Teddy seems to think about that for a moment and then nods. "I _guess_ that makes sense. Go on, then."

"Yes sir," Sirius grins. "The Four Gods made four vampires. Do you know their names? Susan, sweetie, stay in the hut please."

Susan shrugs and walks back in, closing the door behind her, as Teddy says, "Yeah, yeah, I know their names! Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin!"

"Yep, exactly."

"I know this part. Each of the vampires chose one of the Gods to serve, according to which trait they thought was the most important. Because I guess each God had one trait that was more important to them. And then they each wrote a gospel about how to act and that's the end of that story."

"That's the end," Susan agrees and comes up to get another brick and a hug from her father.

"Yes, that's the end," Sirius agrees.

Teddy chews his lower lip and then asks, hesitantly, "Daddy, what about animals?"

"Hmm?"

"When did the Gods create animals?"

"After the vampires. The Gods thought vampires should have something to take care of."

"And humans?"

Sirius hesitates, then answers, "After."

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Why were they created?" Teddy asks.

Sirius gulps down, "So we could eat them."

Teddy frowns and looks up at the ceiling. Sirius, on the other hand, keeps his gaze firmly on Susan, who's crashing the two bricks together, no smile on her face now.

 _She's such a serious child_ , Sirius thinks. _She approaches play with the same intensity adults reserve for filling tax forms_.

Not that he's ever filled a tax form.

"I don’t like it," Teddy announces, pulling Sirius out of his thoughts.

"What?" Sirius blinks. "What don’t you like, bud?"

"I don’t like it that humans were made just to be food," And with that he slips off Sirius's tap and goes over to Susan, watching her as if waiting for someone to come and try to take her away.

Sirius sighs, but before he can figure out a way to respond to that, the phone rings in the main house and he hears Ginny answering.

"Hello-"

"Ginny?" Sirius and Teddy both jump up at the sound off Remus's voice. Teddy's face breaks into a smile, but Sirius, who knows Remus so very well, recognizes the strain and worry in his voice.

"Papa! Daddy, Papa called!" Teddy jumps in place, excited, but Sirius puts a hand on Teddy's lip, shushing him.

"Listen to me, everyone, you have to get to Hogwarts. Get to Hogwarts right n-"

The line goes dead.


End file.
